


The Dark Maladies Line

by GinnyFics21



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Happy Ending, I made up a lot of potions, Magic and Science, Ministry of Magic Employee Hermione Granger, Mystery, Not Epilogue Compliant, Not Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Compliant, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Post-War, Potions Master Draco Malfoy, Romance, Sexual Content, Slow Burn, Substance Abuse, potions galore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:22:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 120,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27748951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GinnyFics21/pseuds/GinnyFics21
Summary: The only way for Draco Malfoy to get Ministry funding for the development of his new line of revolutionary potions was for Hermione Granger to oversee the process. It wasn’t best-case scenario, given their history, but maybe they could put all that aside for something that could change their world. Dramione / Post-Battle of Hogwarts / Slow-burnBackground: Harry/Pansy, Ron/Hannah, Neville/Luna, Ginny/Susan
Relationships: Hannah Abbott/Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Neville Longbottom/Luna Lovegood, Pansy Parkinson/Harry Potter, Susan Bones & Ginny Weasley
Comments: 82
Kudos: 185





	1. The Request Denial

Hermione shuffled around the papers on her desk until she found the packet she was looking for. She sighed, pulling it to the front and re-reading the cover letter while she drummed her fingers on the table, periodically glancing over at the clock hanging on her wall. He’d be here any minute, as much as she’d tried to push off their meeting. But this was part of her job as Senior Undersecretary to the Minister, and Head of the Ministry Budgeting Committee, so she would hear his appeal. Even if it was not a task she was excited about early on a Monday morning.

She felt a piercing jolt run through her body and she gasped, closing her eyes for a moment and letting her breath out slowly as she flexed her fingers a few times. She shook it off, it was something that happened pretty regularly ever since Bellatrix had used the Cruciatus curse on her at Malfoy Manor. After the jolt, her arm would tingle for another minute where the word Mudblood was still faintly etched, but she’d gotten used to the sensation, not in a pleasant way of course, just in the way that after twelve years of feeling it, she knew what it was and that it would pass. She tried to put it to the back of her mind as she reread the last sentence she’d been on; a reminder of Malfoy Manor was the last thing she needed before this meeting. 

There was a knock on her door and she lifted her eyes with another sigh before she set the letter back down, straightening in her chair and clearing her throat, “Come in.”

The door opened and her assistant, Dennis, walked in, “Draco Malfoy is here to see you, Ms. Granger.”

Before she had the opportunity to respond, Draco brushed past him into the room where he paused for his presence to take effect, “Good morning, Granger,” he said in a tone that could be construed as cheery if it hadn’t been for the coldness in his eyes.

“Malfoy,” she nodded curtly, gesturing to the chair in front of her desk before looking back at her assistant, “Thank you, Dennis.”

Dennis left the two in a palpable silence with a click of the door, “Draco,” Draco said after a moment, walking forward.

“What?”

“Draco. Not Malfoy,” he said evenly as he came to a stop in front of her desk, ignoring her offer to sit, “I’d like to know why you denied my funding request.”

Her head was still wrapping around the statement he was making about his name, but she didn’t lose her focus on the matter at hand, “Because I don’t think the results you’ve gathered in your testing are conclusive enough to show you can do what you are describing here.”

“I absolutely can, Granger. As you can see from the data I’ve provided, each batch of potions we’re making has come back with less side effects and more on target with the intended results. I admit it’s not there yet but that’s why I’m here. We need more money to put into the company to achieve what we know we can, and what we’re doing fits into Section 43 of the magical corporations funding laws: _Research and development projects with the ability to improve everyday life in the wizarding world through means of healing, potions, or other similar health charms and remedies._ ”

“I’m aware of the statute,” Hermione narrowed her eyes slightly at him, “But I’m not sure your potions were created with the benefit of society in mind.”

“I’ve detailed my reasons in my original request.”

“I’ve read your request.”

“Well just because _you_ don’t understand the concept,” he enunciated each word, “Doesn’t mean they’re not good products.”

“I do understand it —,”

“Clearly you don’t. These products are specifically being brewed to undo some of the remnants left from the dark magic used on the wizarding world citizens during the war,” he cut her off, frustrated with her dismissal and starting to lose his cool demeanor, “Nothing like these potions has ever existed before. I _discovered_ the mix of ingredients needed to reverse traces of _dark magic_ , Granger. How can you possibly say you don’t see the benefit to society?”

“I understand what you’re _trying_ to do,” Hermione bit back, “But I don't believe you had the _good intention_ of benefiting society in creating them. I have issues funding this for the reason that you’re clearly just trying to capitalize on a tragedy that you were a part of. Besides, I think there’s still a lot you need to work out for this to get to market, you still have too many side effects that would prevent us from ever approving your potions for use, rendering your current ‘discovery’ a bit useless so far. And I’m not sure the funds you’re seeking will get you to a place where the Department for the Regulation of Experimental Spells and Potions could approve it.”

Draco placed his hands on her desk, leaning towards her, “This could be incredibly beneficial to the entire wizarding world once a few kinks are worked out. And I’m _not_ doing it to profit on tragedy. _Don’t_ pretend you know who I am.”

Hermione was a bit taken aback by his last statement as that’s exactly what she’d anticipated he was doing, “Then why are you, Malfoy? Do you just _care_ now?”

“It’s _Draco_ ,” he said in a low voice as his eyes blazed into hers, “What does it matter what the motive is? The only fact that _does_ matter is that once I perfect these potions, they will improve peoples’ lives. I know there’s a long way to go but I also know I can do it. If you’ll just sign your damn name on my funding request.”

“It’s not like you don’t have the money. Just use your family money if it’s so important to you.”

“I’m not trying to put the Malfoy name on this discovery,” he said through gritted teeth, “Yes, I used part of my inheritance from my grandparents for the initial start-up and operating costs because believe it or not, my grandmother was a respectable person who would have wanted it to go to a good cause. But for the record, most of that inheritance was donated. Feel free to check the receipts. Everything else I’ve done to build and grow this company has been with money I earned from six years working as an apothecary apprentice. And I’ve spent another five years researching and developing these potions, which is time I will not just throw away. This is _my_ legacy and I won’t be building it with my father’s money.”

Hermione opened her mouth to respond but nothing came out. This was not at all how she’d anticipated this meeting going. She closed it again, looking at him hard. There were a lot of things she could see in his stare; he was determined, surely indignant, and a bit angry with her, but she couldn’t pull out any emotions outside of those; any authenticity or deception. She prided herself on reading people quite well, but he was difficult. She was predisposed to believe he was just trying to get his way and make the Ministry pay for whatever it was he wanted to work on. But his responses to her questions pushed her in the other direction of thinking this project was important to him personally. Not financially. And that revelation was one she was unprepared for.

“I’ll review your proposal again and consider it,” she finally said, “We can meet on Friday.”

He pushed off of her desk, straightening his jacket, “Thank you,” his tone was still frustrated but it was the best he would get for now, “See you Friday then. You can reach out to my assistant, Susan, with any questions.”

He turned to leave without so much as a backwards glance and she watched him go curiously as she grabbed for the papers in front of her to read through again. Perhaps she’d been too quick to judge when the proposal first landed on her desk. She hadn’t seen much of Draco since the war. _The name sounded odd even in her thoughts and she wondered why he had insisted on it so thoroughly._ She’d expected him to come back to Hogwarts with everyone else that had missed their seventh year courses, but she distinctly remembered being relieved he wasn’t there. She’d just seen him here and there over the last few years when he was in the Ministry for business-related items: permits, licenses, potion approvals, that sort of thing. And he’d never been particularly pleasant to her.

She’d started her career in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, where she had spent the first five years working so hard that they’d promoted her to Lead of the Domesticated Creatures division. She’d spent the next year working closely with the Minister’s team to pass some house elf legislation like she’d always wanted to. Because of her, it was now a law that all house elves _must_ be offered compensation for their work by their family and they now had the right to file complaints against unjust working conditions with the Ministry. It was not an obligation for the house elf to accept compensation or use their new rights, however; she’d come to learn that a fair amount of house elves wanted nothing to do with the changes and eventually she’d had to accept that. But she’d done what she could to at least give them each the option. 

Once she’d accomplished that, six years out of Hogwarts, she’d found herself a bit underwhelmed with the future prospects in the department and promptly applied for a position in the Minister’s office as the assistant to the Undersecretary where she’d dealt heavily with the paperwork of the department, while also learning the ropes to continue her move up. Two years ago she’d taken over the Undersecretary to the Minister job when it opened again. There, she could be more involved in the political side; sitting in on important meetings with Kingsley, learning more about how the government departments worked cohesively, both together, and with outside organizations like the businesses in the Wizarding world. 

Draco had been in and out of the Ministry pretty often when she’d joined the Minister’s team as he was in the process of setting up his business and getting all of the approvals he’d needed to open and start his research. His attitude had always come off to her as it had in Hogwarts, arrogant and like he was above the process of what every company had to go through to check off the compliance boxes. But today he’d been a different kind of unpleasant. The kind where she felt like _if_ he was coming from a sincere place, he may have a legitimate reason to be unpleasant with her; she may have been the one in the wrong.

O-o-o-o-o-o-o

Hermione returned home that evening, but before walking the steps to her own flat, she climbed her neighbor’s steps and knocked on the door. She could hear the shuffling of feet inside before the door opened.

“Hey, Hermione,” Harry smiled, leaning against the doorframe.

“Hi, Harry. I’ve got a dilemma I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Come on in,” he moved back from the doorway for her to follow him in and shut the door behind them.

“Looks like you’ve got some tidying up to do,” she commented, looking around at the mess of clothes and papers strewn about the living room.

“The trials and tribulations of living alone and bringing your work home with you,” he said with a crooked smile, “No reason to keep overly organized when you and Ron are the only ones who ever come over."

She gave him a weary glance before moving a sweater and taking a seat on the couch.

“So what’s going on?” He asked as he sat on the opposite side.

“Well, Draco Malfoy came into my office this morning,” she started as he gave her a curious look, “He had put in a funding request with the Minister’s office a few months ago which I reviewed and denied. He’s working on a batch of potions that are all related to post-war trauma of one type or another.”

“Like what?” Harry cocked his head at her, even more intrigued now.

“Well a bunch of different ones ranging from something as simple as a more potent Draught of Peace without the obvious side effects which make it hard to hide that the user has taken it. You know how that potion makes you a bit overly relaxed and, ah, goofy.”

“Yes I remember laughing casually when Ron told me Errol died. Draught of Peace doesn’t really let you show any emotion other than calm and carefree which can really bite you in the arse in a situation like that. Hard to take it on a normal basis to combat the… _er_ , not so happy feelings that still tend to creep up sometimes.”

“Right,” Hermione said with an understanding look, “So he’s got some everyday remedies like that and then he’s also got some that aim to reverse or treat traces of dark magic and curses. Something no one’s ever found a remedy for. He just provided an overview of each and status but there’s probably about ten potions or so he had listed in development.”

Harry nodded, clearly impressed, “Why do you think he’s working on this project?”

“That’s been my question since I read his proposal,” she said with a shake of her head, “I just assumed he was trying to find a way to make a big profit off of the war. Why else would he spend the first five years of a new company developing trauma potions? He’s got a separate sector of the business set up to brew your standard approved potions that he can sell to the local apothecaries, but his money is heavily weighted on the development side so it’s clear generating a quick profit wasn’t his immediate goal.”

“Maybe he wants to try and make things right,” Harry said quietly.

“And this is why I wanted to talk with you about it,” Hermione said with a sigh, “Ever since the war you’ve had an inexplicable soft spot for Malfoy whenever he gets brought up. I don’t understand it, but I want to because maybe I could see another motivation. It’s not that I don’t understand the potential benefits, there’s just other factors to consider when thinking about where the money I’ve been approved to distribute should go.”

“Before I get into it, why _did_ you deny his request if you see the benefits?” Harry asked, looking for the full story.

“Well my initial reason to deny it was due to not wanting to financially support someone trying to profit off of something so terrible. That he contributed to. But outside of my personal feelings on wanting to dole out the money to morally conscious projects, his results also played a part in my decision. Even though his results show progress, there’s still too many side effects for the potions to get approved for legal use. Big ones. He knows it and that’s what the money would be funding. More research, more testing, etcetera. But seeing how long it’s taken him to get where he is, I just don’t know that the money he’s looking for will bridge the gap of where he needs to get. Of course I see the benefit if he _could_ get it there. But it’s definitely not a guaranteed win and there are other health funding requests on my desk to consider as well. Albeit his are the most interesting of them, but it would tie up the entirety of our budget in his project. It's a lot of faith to put in a Malfoy.”

“Makes sense from a government perspective,” Harry said, “But I think it would be worth it. I think it would make a difference in people’s lives. You and I both know the kinds of things people have to cope with in their everyday lives, even this long after the war.”

“I know,” she admitted, “Can you just give me some faith in him. Why do you think I should help him?”

“I just think he’s changed,” Harry said simply, “He’s not the boy he was at Hogwarts.”

“He certainly still struts into a room like he is,” Hermione countered.

“He’s got the attitude if you get on that side of him, I’m sure,” Harry allowed, “But if you try to have a conversation with him, you’ll understand what I mean. You’ve only dealt with him in Ministry business, and he’s a businessman who wants to get things done. But I’ve had cordial conversations with him over the years and he’s tried to put that life behind him. It’s been twelve years, Hermione. He’s just grown up.”

Hermione paused, considering her next question. One she’d had on the tip of her tongue a thousand times and never let fall, “What did you talk to him about, that night when you asked him to drinks after his trial?” 

Harry was mildly surprised at the question. He’d expected it years ago, but not so much now. He’d told both her and Ron that he’d wanted to talk things out with Malfoy after the Supreme Mugwump of the Wizengamot had read the verdict that exonerated him, but neither of his friends had been interested in partaking. And they’d never asked how it went, still too blinded, fairly, or course, by his part in everything. They’d just wanted to put the Malfoys, and the war, behind them and move forward.

Harry thought back to that outing to the Hogs Head with Malfoy so many years ago as he tried to think of how to summarize the three hours they’d sat there talking, “Well, first I apologized for what happened in our bathroom duel sixth year, felt like something I needed to get off my chest. And then I told him why I testified on his behalf. I told him I was thankful for his mother’s sacrifice to keep my secret in those crucial moments in the forest. I asked him what it had been like to be a part of the Death Eaters since it had been clear to me that he didn’t want to be by the end. I asked him why he’d been a pain in the ass for six years at Hogwarts,” Harry smiled a little thinking back to their conversation; One that felt like it had been years in the making where they could put everything on the table and move past their history. They’d acknowledged how similar their childhoods had been, though in opposite ways: set on a path someone else had chosen for them and trying to live up to it. 

Although Hermione and Ron hadn’t understood why he cared to reconcile with Malfoy, he’d needed to. He'd seen the remorse Draco held after it all. He’d seen him on the astronomy tower; how scared he’d looked; how much of a _boy_ he truly was at that time and the choice he was faced with. And he’d watched him break down in the corner of the Great Hall with his parents, after the final battle had ended. He’d known then that he would testify on behalf of him and his mother for their help and he’d known then that he’d wanted to clear the air once and for all and extend the olive branch.

“And then I asked him how he was dealing with the aftermath of it all and deciding what was to come for him from there,” he told her, “He didn’t scoff at anything I said and he didn’t disregard my questions. He was uncomfortable, but he was grateful I stepped forward. He and I both know I kept him out of Azkaban. But out of everything he said that day I remember most clearly that he said he felt lost as to how to balance moving forward to make something of himself and also consciously letting his past be a part of him as a way to accept responsibility for what he’d done. It was… deeper than I had expected and it’s kind of stuck with me. We haven’t had a sit down like that since, but we’ve ran into each other a fair few times around town and he’s always stopped to talk for a few minutes and been very cordial. There’s no doubt in my mind that he’s grown and changed. But I’m sure, as a businessman, he’s still got all the ambition and presence of your typical Slytherin.”

Hermione took in his story, trying to keep an open mind. She knew he’d wanted to talk to Malfoy after the trial, but she was still too filled with thoughts of Malfoy Manor and the Fiendfyre in the Room of Requirement to be in a place where she was ready to understand his perspective, or even to hear an apology. But now, it’d been twelve years and they were almost thirty. She still carried the same notions towards him because she hadn’t had a reason to reconsider them. However, after seeing how intense he’d gotten about the potions being important to him, she felt she was ready to understand why. 

She wasn’t still angry with him about the war. She’d come to terms with everything that had happened and moved forward with her own life. Though she still felt the effects of it; they all did in one way or another; physically, mentally, it depended on the day. There were plenty of things that still woke her up in a cold sweat at four in the morning. But she didn’t blame him personally for anything that had happened, whereas ten years ago she _had_ put some of that blame on him by association. 

He’d made bad choices, that wasn’t up for debate, but she’d come to accept that she did know he didn’t want to be a part of it by the end. She’d seen the remorse and regret he’d held during his trial. She knew that although he was there at Malfoy Manor and although he had sought them out in the Room of Requirement, he hadn’t been the one to try to do them real harm in either scenario. It had been Bellatrix and Crabbe, respectively. They were at fault and Malfoy was just… there. Just there and not brave enough to fight back against his family or friends. Because of that, she’d slowly let go of her direct blame towards him over the years. But that didn’t mean she hadn’t held onto the rivalry from their school days and her feelings about his personality at that time in life. But for the first time she wondered how the war had affected him; how it had changed him. She wondered if he _was_ trying to do something to redeem himself.

“I’m going to approve his request with contingencies,” she finally said, “I want to be involved in how the money’s spent and how the trials are progressing. But I understand your perspective on him a little better and I do see the potential impact if he can make this work, so I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt.”

“I think it’s the right decision,” Harry said earnestly, “Now, do you want to stay for dinner? I’ve got some leftovers from Mrs. Weasley in the fridge.”

Hermione chuckled, “Sure, Harry, leftovers sound great. And then I’ll have to get home to write that approval letter. And Crookshanks will be in one of her moods if I don’t get her dinner in the next hour.”

O-o-o-o-o-o-o

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for checking out my new fic! I’ve spent more time outlining and planning this story than anything else I’ve ever written, including doing some thinking and researching to come up with all of the potions Draco’s company will be working on throughout this story! I've written up to chapter 24 so far so updates should be smooth sailing for a while (first few will be out pretty quick to get the ball rolling and then I'm estimating every 3-5 days as I edit each chapter a few times before posting). And now, I’m very excited to finally be sharing this story with you!
> 
> The fanart I've included in the beginning was a commission I had my cousin do for me specifically for this story that turned out so beautifully <3 I hope you enjoy that little piece of imagery to kick us off!!
> 
> As a few quick notes, there are some details in this story that get a little business-y or a little science-y but hopefully that’s what makes this story interesting and sets the scene and the characters for you! I'm also writing some new background ships I've never done before, which are noted in the summary section so I hope you enjoy the little twist of ships! Lastly, I’ve got this tagged as mystery as we’ve got a bit of a mystery plot that will come into play down the line. I truly hope you enjoy as our love story unfolds :) Please review if you’ve got a minute!


	2. Facts & Circumstance

Draco felt sufficiently vindicated when the owl post arrived at Draconis Laboratories the following day and a certain contingent approval letter had been drawn from the stack. The letter had requested a presentation that coming Friday on the status of the development project, and projections of expected progress and costs for the year of research the Ministry would be funding. He’d spent the rest of the week pulling various executive team members into his office to discuss the most current findings and research statistics to bring to the meeting. He was an avid negotiator so if there were contingencies to be discussed, he wanted to provide the strongest argument for his case. However he also knew Hermione Granger was not a witch he could use his normal tactics with. 

Not that he’d ever admit it to her, but he knew she was fierce, intelligent, and not in the least bit afraid of him. And likely more relevant than anything else, he knew she didn’t like him as a person. He couldn't simply walk in and be a businessman who was going to get his way. He had to go in there, eat his pride, and find a way to compromise without losing the integrity of what he was trying to accomplish. He could tell she was willing to compromise, based on her reconsideration of his request, so he needed to show the same respect this time. He knew he’d lost his temper on his last visit and although it may have sparked the level of intrigue she’d needed to approve his application, he certainly did not think that attitude would get him any further. He had to keep the goal top of mind: get the funding to complete his research to get the potions to market. That’s what this was all about.

As he turned the parchment of notes in his hand over to continue his review before their meeting, he felt a shocking jolt run from his shoulders all the way down through his toes. He clenched his teeth and balled his fist, the feeling never got more comfortable even after thirteen years. It passed after a moment and he took a deep breath, feeling thankful that it wasn’t one of the more crippling jolts he’d experienced, before he refocused, shaking his head a little to clear it. He certainly didn’t have time to let thoughts of the war in right now.

“Draco,” his assistant Susan knocked on the door before cracking it open, “The floo’s ready for your ten o’clock appointment.”

Draco lifted his eyes from the parchment, nodding at Susan in acknowledgment before she pulled the door shut again. He realized his teeth were still clenched and he let up on them, rubbing his jaw as he took another second to collect himself.

He set down his notes, drawing in a deep breath and letting it out slowly before he stood, buttoning the middle button on his suit jacket as he continued to repeat testing statistics in his head. He flicked his wand at his briefcase, which snapped shut before levitating towards him for him to grab as he walked to the door. He paused for a moment to slip his wand into his jacket and smooth the creases in his suit before he pulled the door open and walked determinedly out of his office; past the glass windows of the Developmental Potions labs where his potioneers researched diligently, past the glass windows of the General Brewing Department where his potions apprentices prepared their marketable items, past the glass windows of the greenhouses which housed their heavily stocked ingredient store room, past the doors of his colleagues, some open, some closed, and past the sleek break room that boasted a complexly charmed self-brewing coffee and tea station and House Elf chefs that cooked lunches for the team during the week. 

He knew the future of the entire company depended on this meeting today and the outcome of their funding. They just needed enough for one more year of research and testing and he knew they could find their breakthrough. He had the talent to make it happen. He just needed a little more time with the right resources. There was a part of him that worried something would fall through, or that Granger would change her mind again before the final documents were signed. But he wouldn’t let any of them see the nerves he felt at the thought of not being able to secure this deal, _no_ , he’d learned to shut those kinds of emotions off years ago. Instead, he’d keep his head and confidence high and do whatever it took today to come back to them with a path forward. He wouldn’t let them down, and he wouldn’t let himself down. 

He emerged into the grand, white marble reception area where their Floo was located, and already burning a bright shade of green. He nodded again to Susan as he passed the reception desk and then stepped into the flames with another deep breath before stating clearly, “Ministry of Magic Atrium.”

O-o-o-o-o-o-o

“Draco Malfoy here to see Hermione Granger,” Draco said in an authoritative tone as he entered the Minister’s Office.

Dennis looked up from the mail he was sifting through, stacking the parchment together and placing them to the side as he cleared off the day’s calendar, “Good morning Mr. Malfoy,” he greeted him.

“Just Draco is fine,” Draco said curtly, wishing the receptionist had remembered his preference from his prior visit.

Dennis glanced up at him again, “Of course, sorry. Ms. Granger will be just a few moments. She’s finishing up with the Minister right now, if you’d like to take a seat.”

“I’ll stand, thanks,” Draco let out a perturbed sigh and checked his very expensive antique watch that most would say had a few too many dials, as he stepped over to the side of the reception area. He was promptly on time for their meeting and was hoping it could get underway as planned.

A couple of minutes later a door near the end of the hall opened and Kingsley Shacklebolt stepped out, heading back to his office. Dennis turned to Draco, “I can take you back now, if you’ll follow me.”

Draco followed him down the hall, realizing for the first time that he thought he might recognize him from Hogwarts. Perhaps he’d been a few years younger, but he looked very familiar.

Dennis knocked on the open door, “Ms. Granger, Draco Malfoy is here for you.”

Hermione looked up and her eyes locked on Draco before she turned her gaze to Dennis, “Thank you, Dennis,” she forced what she hoped was a genuine smile at him as Draco walked into the room and Dennis closed the door behind him.

“Draco, thank you for coming back,” Hermione said in the most professional tone she could, feeling her cheeks warm unnaturally as just his first name came off her lips for what must be the first time in her life. She gestured to the chair in front of her as she had last time.

“Thank you for reconsidering my request,” Draco replied in a similar tone, internally appreciating that she’d remembered the distinction. He sat this time, unbuttoning his suit jacket and placing his briefcase on the chair beside him.

“I see the importance of what it is you’re trying to do,” Hermione clasped her hands in front of her, “That’s why I’ve reconsidered. And I’ll be honest, your impassioned argument piqued my interest on Monday. It gives me some sort of reassurance that you’ll put the money to good use and make the most of the funding to accomplish what you’re setting out to do.”

Draco nodded in acknowledgment, but she continued before he could respond.

“However, I do still have concerns that the funding amount and timeline isn’t going to get your development where it needs to be, so there are contingencies to the Ministry funding your research.”

Draco bit back a retort, _obviously, that’s why they were here_ , “I’m prepared to discuss those contingencies,” he said, “And I’ve brought the most up to date information we have on where we’re at with our research and trials and how we plan to successfully complete our goals with the requested funding.” He wished he could be pleading his case to anyone but Hermione Granger, but tried to ignore the uncomfortable tension between them as they navigated the situation.

“I’m happy to hear you’ve prepared for this.” She’d thought that perhaps if he _was_ just trying to pull his strings at the Ministry, rather than having pure intentions, that he might be put off by having to expend the effort to prepare a presentation and agree to the contingencies she would be putting in place.

“This project is important to me,” he reiterated with a tinge of annoyance. Did he really have to explain himself again? He thought he’d made it clear already.

“So you’ve mentioned,” her lip curled up the slightest bit and he could have sworn he heard a teasing undertone to her voice.

Avoiding an acknowledgement of her jibe, he returned to the subject of their meeting, “Would you like to get into the presentation then?”

“Yes,” she sat back, nodding, locating her notepad and quill, “I’m ready when you are.”

Draco stood, grabbing his wand from his inside jacket pocket and waving it towards his briefcase, which opened, an easel popping out and righting itself next to him. A Slew of charts arranged themselves in order as Draco addressed her, “We currently have eleven potions in development related to our Dark Maladies line, eight of which are in the testing phase while two are in the pre-development phase and one is in the preliminary research stage. In total, our spending attributed to this line of potions used approximately fifty percent of company funds over the last five years, while thirty-five percent went to start-up costs and continuing overhead, and the remaining fifteen percent of funds went towards our marketable products lines - your over the counter potions and remedies that we actively sell to the local apothecaries. If you exclude overhead, that’s about a seventy-five versus twenty-five percent split between research and marketable potions, respectively.”

“That’s a high allocation to research over sales,” she remarked.

“Well this company was built on the belief that the Dark Maladies line will be our main source of revenue, as well as our most important contribution, once the potions are approved and at market, unfortunately we just ended up in a timeline where we’re running short of operating funds prior to getting there.”

Draco went on to explain the shift in spending away from research and into marketable products they’d had to do in recent months. This shift enabled them to increase coin flow in order to cover daily costs that were previously covered by the original investment in the business. However, the impact of the shift had significantly pushed out the projected timeline of getting the Dark Maladies line to market. 

Draco flicked his wand and the top chart showing the spending differentials levitated itself to the back of the pile and a timeline came to the front, “The first chart shows expected progress at our current rate without Ministry funding. As you can see, that puts the Dark Maladies line at market in four years.”

“That’s four years including the approvals process, I presume, not just four years to complete the research and clinical trials?” Hermione asked.

“Yes, in four years we’d expect it to be hitting shelves,” he clarified, unsure if it was stimulating him that she was interested enough to ask questions, or if he was annoyed that she kept interrupting, “The chart next to that shows the expected timeline with the requested funding, where we can ramp up our spending to still run our marketable potions business at the same rate as the first chart to cover our overhead costs, but _also_ ramp testing back up to even higher levels than we’ve had in the past for our research labs. As you can see, if we’re able to put our galleons back into research, we should be able to complete all tests of our eight potions in that phase, assuming no major setbacks, _and_ we’d have the resources to continue development of our early stage potions. The timeline _with_ funding puts us out one year to one and a half years. Obviously with the goal being to complete it in one.”

Hermione jotted down notes as he talked, more than impressed with his presentation skills. It was obvious how he’d gotten where he was. It also helped that the subject matter was so captivating, “What did you take into account when preparing your timelines?”

“Historical progress,” he flicked his wand again as the next chart came forward, deciding that he did appreciate her interest, especially when it transitioned his presentation so well, “Here you can see what we were able to accomplish over five years given the money put into the company and our spending allocations. Based on the funding we would receive from the Ministry, I calculated a similar galleon-input-to-percentage-completion model, tweaked just a bit to take into account that we’re already over the learning curve and start-up costs.”

Hermione raised her eyebrows, nodding at the level of detail as he continued on with his presentation. In total, it lasted precisely thirty minutes as he went over the statistics he’d compiled from his colleagues and updates on the testing and development results. She’d asked some follow-up questions here and there to his figures and projections but by the end felt more than comfortable that his plan was at least well-thought out and something she could stand behind, even _if_ the funding didn’t get his potions to the intended results by next year. For now, however, she had faith in his vision. Which already felt like a big step.

“So the contingencies on the Ministry side are decently straight-forward,” Hermione said as he packed his things back into his briefcase, “First, I’ll need to present quarterly updates to the Budgeting committee showing progress. Any lack of progress in those three month periods could send your funding into an inquiry state, in which an investigation would be made as to how funds are being spent.”

“I don’t anticipate a quarter without progress on our development side. Progress has always been steady until we had to start pulling funds over to operations,” he said nonchalantly, taking a seat across from her again.

“Good to hear,” she nodded, “Second, you’ll need to provide an overview of where you plan to spend the money - high level - so, allocations to supplies, salaries, research time, etc.”

“We’ve already got a budget put together so I can send those over,” he nodded. This didn’t seem to be as bad as he’d been anticipating.

“And lastly,” she paused, looking up at him from her checklist, “I’ll be making weekly visits to Draconis Laboratories for updates and hands-on review of the work being performed. The Minister wanted someone directly involved in overseeing the progress, given the circumstances that we’re allocating our entire annual health research funding budget to your project.”

They stared at each other for a moment as the impact of the last contingency set in. They would be working closely together at least once a week for the next year and she would be overseeing his life’s work and evaluating the progress. 

He nodded slowly, knowing there wasn’t anything he could do about it, “Alright, well… I guess that’s… alright,” his pride hurt thinking about being scrutinized if a situation were to arise where testing wasn’t going as planned, but he had to choke down those feelings and stay cool, “If that’s what the Ministry feels they need to do in order to have confidence in their investment in us, then that’s… that.”

She’d never seen him falter like this, but obviously understood why. They were going to have to find some common ground to build trust and patience to get through the next year. After almost twenty years of what could be considered, at best, a contentious acquaintanceship. 

Trying to dispel the awkwardness, she cleared her throat lightly and tried to push forward, “Alright. So my visits will be on Fridays, with my first being the first Friday in September, a week from today. I’ll need you to drop off reports for the week on Thursdays, mid-day preferably, so I can get up to speed before I come in. I think for my first visit, it makes sense just to have a brief tour of the facilities, meet the staff and hear a little about what they do in the process.”

“Right. Sure,” he tried to refocus again. He knew he’d have to compromise and _this_ was that compromise. But they were getting the funding. The goal had been met. No matter the cost, “I can have Susan set up a schedule for us to make the rounds to the different departments to get you acquainted with the team and we’ll do quick meetings with each of the executive members.”

He was taking it all in stride and she was shocked. Impressed. But shocked that he wasn’t fighting her on it, “Great. You can have her send it over to Dennis and I’ll just take a look through so I can get an idea of your team dynamic and such,” she grabbed a piece of parchment on her desk and turned it towards him, "You'll just need to sign here at the bottom and everything will be set since I assume you've read over the rest of the fine print in the documents I sent over a few days ago on how the Ministry funding works."

"I did," he took the quill she'd held out for him, leaning forward to read through the parchment which noted his agreement to the terms of the funding documents and stated their funding amount and disbursement plan, as well as listing the contingencies they'd just discussed. Satisfied with the contents, he dipped the quill in the inkpot on her desk and scrawled his named on the line at the bottom below where she had signed.

Hermione noted that his signature was every bit as precise and dignified as she'd have expected it to be as he handed it back to her.

Draco stood, feeling that this was the end of their conversation and ready to return to his own office with his thoughts, “Susan will send over the schedule on Thursday for your review,” he held his hand out tentatively as she stood, looking down at his hand with only a brief hesitation before she shook it, “Thank you again, Granger, for giving our project a chance.”

The sincerity in his voice, mixed with the feeling of his hand firmly grasping hers made her brain foggy for a moment before she found her words again, “Looking forward to watching the progress.” At least it was something honest as opposed to _'_ _Looking forward to working together_.’

Draco pulled his hand back and turned for the door as she reflexively moved her own hand down to wipe against her skirt. It was inexplicably clammy, likely from the uncertainty in their handshake. It had to get more natural between them, though, or at least she hoped it would for the amount of time they’d be spending together.

O-o-o-o-o-o-o


	3. Draconis Laboratories

When Hermione received the schedule for her day at Draconis Laboratories, she realized the majority of his executive team was just his old Slytherin classmates. It made her wonder just how serious he could really be about his company to hire friends over experts. She’d thought this was going to be a long day originally, but even moreso now that the doubts were starting to creep back in. But the money was already allocated and documents were signed, so she would do her duty and start the process of weekly visits with the hope that her confidence would return.

The green flames dulled as she stepped from the fireplace and into the white marble reception area on the top floor of a corporate building in downtown London. She couldn’t help but let her eyes roam as she brushed off the blazer of her new pantsuit, looking around at the grand fixtures before a voice focused her attention again.

“Good morning, Hermione.”

Hermione’s head swiveled towards the reception desk and she was surprised to see Susan Bones standing behind it with a smile on her face and finally making the connection to the 'Susan' that Draco had referred to as his assistant, “Susan, hi, you work for Draco?”

“Yes, I’ve been here since the start,” she said, looking very proud, “I’ll let him know you’re here,” she grabbed a spare bit of parchment and scribbled a note, folding it into an airplane before she swished her wand at it and the note took off down the hall.

“How did you… get involved with the company?” Hermione asked out of sheer curiosity, the heels of her shoes echoing through the room as she walked over. Basically all of the names she’d seen on the executive team were Slytherins. Susan had been a very friendly and genuinely kind Hufflepuff. She didn’t quite understand how it added up.

“Well you see, a good friend of mine, Lisa Turpin from Ravenclaw — I don’t know if you remember her — but she started dating Draco’s friend Theo a few years after Hogwarts,” Susan told her, gathering some papers from her desk and clipping them together into a small binder, “When Draco was in the process of starting this company, Theo told Lisa all about what he was hoping to do with his potions research and she told me about it because she knew how much the cause would mean to me. After she rattled off a couple of his potion ideas, I just knew I wanted to be a part of it, in any way I could. I lost a lot in the war. Being a part of something that could improve the lives of those that were affected felt like a calling. By the time I reached out to him, Draco had already filled most of the roles that fit my skill set, but I asked if there was anything still available and he mentioned the reception job and I jumped on it. I do most of the admin work here. But that includes sitting in on meetings and taking minutes. They listen when I’ve got suggestions or comments on whatever it is they’re discussing so I feel I’m doing more than just greeting visitors. But even if I was, this company and his vision mean the world to me. To most of us here, really.”

Hermione was a bit taken aback by her story, she knew Susan had lost the majority of her family members in the war and could see why Draco’s vision appealed to her, however she was conflicted with the thought that Susan was now working under an ex-Death Eater. Although she knew she was supposed to be giving him a second chance herself and seeing him as more than that. Maybe Susan saw more than that. She opened her mouth, trying to find a good response, “That’s wonderful to hear. That people are passionate about the company.”

“We were all so happy when Draco came back last week and told us the Ministry would be funding the research. It’s been stressful. We all know what this research means and this feels like the break we were waiting for,” Susan handed her the binder she’d just finished putting together which presumably held the documents the Ministry had requested.

“Not telling her all of our company secrets now, are you Susan?” Came Draco’s drawl as he approached the reception desk, subconsciously taking in Hermione’s appearance; she wore a tailored black pantsuit, fitted at the bottom with polished pumps and a sleek leather briefcase in one hand, her hair pulled back in a precise bun. She was the epitome of professional and he couldn’t help the momentary pull of attraction he had to a powerful woman, though he kept his outward demeanor cool as he focused on Susan to clear the prior thought from his mind. All he had to focus on was the day going smoothly so they could set the stage for the year of cooperative work ahead of them.

“Just telling her how much it means to all of us that we can continue what we’re doing here,” Susan smiled broadly at him and his lip curled up into a grin back at her as he nodded.

“Well, Granger,” he turned to Hermione, his head clear of inappropriate thoughts and slipping one hand into his pinstriped pocket while he gestured towards the hallway with the other, “Welcome to Draconis Laboratories.”

Hermione forced a polite smile at him, giving a quick wave to Susan, “Good to see you,” before she drew in a deep breath through her nose and walked towards Draco, “Thank you for preparing the schedule for the day.”

“Didn’t have much choice, did I?” He said rhetorically, leading her back down the hallway past the break room and towards his office, where they would start the day. He pointed out the different rooms as they passed them, mostly as a way to fill the silence. 

As he was pointing out the brewing department, Hermione felt another jolt run through her body and did the best she could to turn her gasp into an “ah,” response to something he had said. She felt her knees buckle, but recovered the composure in her stride quickly, glad he was looking the other way through the glass at the moment. Her arm tingled and she shook it inconspicuously before she was able to exhale the distraction and refocus on what he was saying as they entered his office.

Draco shut the door behind them, feeling the tension returning to his body now that the time was finally here for Hermione to begin her oversight of the operations, though he willed himself to stay relaxed. He was in his own territory. This was  _ his  _ space and he would not feel uncomfortable in his own space.

“The binder Susan gave you has all of our budgets and supporting documents. I’ve also included a detailed listing of the eight potions we have in the testing phase and the current status of those trials,” Draco walked around his desk, taking a seat.

“Great,” Hermione took the chair in front of his desk, shifting to cross her legs as she grabbed a copy of the schedule he held out for her, “I’m actually very much looking forward to seeing the labs and, of course, getting acquainted with everyone.”

“We’ve got a great team. I have no doubt you’ll be as impressed with them as I am,” Draco told her, pulling a sheet forward on his desk and trying to treat her like any other business partner, “So I figured we could just go over today’s schedule quick, and I can brief you on the hierarchy here before we’ll make our rounds.”

“Based on my quick review last night, the names looked familiar,” she quipped, clasping her free hand around her knee.

He flicked his eyes up from his paper, “Every one of my colleagues is qualified for their position and exemplary at their job.”

“I was just making an observation,” the tone had come off unintentionally snarky, though whether it happened subconsciously or accidentally, she was unsure. She’d planned to come in here and stay professional and open minded, but it was hard to ignore what was on her mind.

“I think it’s important to work with people you trust,” he articulated, feeling she was already overstepping what she was here to do, “A company should be like family; People you can stand behind and trust to have your back. That’s how this company was built. And we’ve come a long way on that foundation.”

“I was simply stating that I noticed your executive team looks an awful lot like your friends from Hogwarts. I guess I had assumed it would have included at least a few other experts in your fields of work, you know, renowned herbologists, potions masters, scholars...” she said before she could stop herself. His flare in attitude seemed to be setting off her own defenses to revert back to their normal interactions. 

“Listen, Granger,” his voice was noticeably tighter and his eyes burned into hers as he spoke, “My colleagues share my vision for where this company is going. Every one of them has experience in what they do. We have made progress in leaps and bounds over the last five years to research remedies and create solutions no one else has even attempted. Sometimes a team of younger, more innovative strategists is what it takes to make a difference. If I had brought a bunch of experts in, they’d have told me what we’re trying to do is crazy and we’d never have gotten where we are. This team has all of my faith. And I understand you have to be here to fulfill your Ministry contingencies, but don’t think, for one second, that it gives you the right to criticize what I’ve built here. You can log our progress, you can oversee our processes, you can even feel free to give suggestions and opinions when it comes to the potion brewing, testing, or allocation of funds. I am willing to work together, but do not ever talk down on this team and the work they’ve put in.”

Hermione found herself a bit speechless again, “I’m - I’m sorry, you’re right, that was out of line,” with her thoughts a bit jumbled in her head, she let the next sentence fall, “Where does all this passion for your company and your research come from?”

Draco took a moment to draw in a breath and calm himself before he sidestepped her question, “This isn’t a Prophet interview, we should get back to the schedule,” he dropped his eyes again, trying to focus and clear his mind. He’d done it a thousand times learning Occlumency, this was no different. Clear your mind, clear your emotions. He blinked again, his voice retaining the professionalism he’d started the day with, “We’ll meet with the executive team this morning and then we’ve planned a team lunch in the break room for you to get acquainted with our culture. After lunch we’ll tour the greenhouses, brewing department and research labs. After your tours, we can take a more in depth look at the potions we’re working on to get you familiarized with the mixtures, and side effects or qualms we’re working through, experimental trials, etcetera. And that will bring us to the end of the day.”

She wondered why he was so against talking about his motivations, but accepted the return to stable conversation with a nod, knowing she had already offended him once with her offhand comment about his staff, “It looks like we’ll be starting with Theo Nott.”

Draco looked at his watch, “About time, we can walk over,” at the door of his office he paused and looked back as Hermione followed behind him, “Just keep an open mind today. I know this may not have been what you were expecting, but I meant what I said about this team working hard to get where we are. The last thing they need is someone coming in and doubting them when they feel we finally hit the break we’ve been waiting for.”

“I will,” she said, trying to put some confidence in her voice, “Your faith in them is hard to ignore.”

He gave an uncomfortable nod and opened the door. Theo’s office was diagonally adjacent from his own and was propped open by a dragon tail doorstop that swished back and forth as they passed.

In their meeting with Theo, she learned he was the CFO, dealing mainly with budgeting, cost analysis, and daily bookkeeping, with seven years of experience in finance at Gringotts and a small team under him. He’d mentioned working with Bill Weasley and Hermione had been interested to know if they’d gotten on, but didn’t ask. She hadn’t remembered much about Theo from Hogwarts, which was probably a good sign, and couldn’t help but feel like if she hadn’t known he’d been in Slytherin, she would have just considered him a nice bloke with an impressively run finance department.

Their next meeting was with Blaise Zabini, who was the VP of Research & Development, overseeing the research labs, testing phases, and reporting on results. He’d worked for seven years at a developmental potions brewing facility in Madrid after Hogwarts, specifically focusing on beautification potions. It seemed with Draco’s healing potions knowledge and his experience working in R&D, they’d made a good team to set up the labs and testing processes for their own company. From her interaction with Blaise she could tell he had a sarcastic demeanor that slipped into his tone more often than not.

From Blaise’s office they walked next door to greet the one name she didn’t recognize: Adrien Karkaroff. She’d assumed his relation to the Durmstrang headmaster, which couldn’t be mistaken when taking in his appearance; Adrien was a tall man around their same age with longer black hair, a slim nose and piercing, deep-set eyes who could be described as unconventionally attractive with his clean-cut facial hair and distinct, carved features. He greeted her with a thick russian accent and through their conversation, she’d noted his tone as welcoming, yet devoid of much tangible emotion that gave off the feeling that he was a reserved man; there was something guarded that she picked up on immediately.

He’d let slip early on in the conversation his connection to Draco — they’d been placed as roommates for his seventh year at Durmstrang. Draco had interjected, looking quite like he’d wished Adrien hadn’t mentioned it, to confirm that he’d done his seventh year courses at the school in Eastern Europe as opposed to Hogwarts, but hadn’t offered any additional details, which really just created more questions than it answered. They’d finally gotten into their meeting and she learned Adrian was the VP of Herbology, having spent six years in herbology research after his schooling. His main job was to ensure the greenhouses were producing what was needed to stock the ingredient store room for the research and marketable products brewing labs. By the end of the meeting she found herself intrigued to learn more about Adrien, who seemed incredibly smart and focused on his job.

As they left Adrien’s office, Draco directed them to the last office in the executive suite — the one Hermione would consider herself most apprehensive about.

Draco knocked on the open door and a swish of black hair flipped over the girl’s shoulder on the other side of the room. Her red lipstick-stained lips pulled up into a grin as her eyes met Draco’s and then moved to lock on Hermione.

“Morning,” she drawled, tying a piece of parchment to her owl’s leg before she shooed it off the ledge and closed the window, “Just had a quick counter-negotiation to send back to one of our customers.” She turned and walked back towards her desk and Hermione couldn’t help but take in her appearance: she wore a tight black pencil skirt with a vivid green, silk button down tucked in. Her face was perfectly done with makeup and her hair in a long bob that framed her face.

“Good morning, Pansy,” Hermione said evenly as they met at her desk. She outstretched her hand and Pansy took it delicately.

“Granger, pleasure,” there was a coyness in her voice that couldn't be mistaken. They all sat and Pansy crossed her legs as she leaned back, looking expectantly at Hermione.

Hermione cleared her throat a little, feeling a bit intimidated by Pansy for some reason, possibly from the overt confidence she exerted and the way she strutted about in her heels that seemed too high to navigate a room with, “So I’m here to get acquainted with the executive team and how you all work together. What’s your role in the company?”

“I’m Vice President of Sales and Marketing. I oversee the marketable potions side of the business. I worked for three years as a potions apprentice for another large potion-brewing company and then I moved over to sales for the same company for four years before coming to Draconis Laboratories. Sales was always more my thing, I’m quite good at getting our products on shelves,” her coy grin was still prominently at her lips even as she talked, “Draco can basically thank me for keeping us afloat until we had our funding approved.”

Draco let out an audible sigh, “You can ignore her attitude.”

“I’ll take that as a thank you,” she gave him a fake smile and turned back to Hermione, “I am the liaison between the company and our customers — the apothecaries — and also oversee the brewing department to ensure we’re producing what the customers are looking for and keeping each batch in line with brewing quality standards.”

“Do you have a separate quality control team?” Hermione asked, trying to remember to ask the questions she’d prepared.

“Of course we do, I’m no expert on potions with only three years behind the cauldron. We’ve got a lead potions master in the brewing department, a colleague of mine from my old company who has fifteen years of experience brewing your standard healing potions.”

“So you  _ do _ have experts that work here,” Hermione looked over at Draco.

“Of course we do in the brewing department,” he retorted, before watching his tone again, “We’re trying to keep those potions status quo. Someone who’s been making Pepper-Up Potion for fifteen years is exactly what we needed to ensure quality production. Pansy and Cristiano work as a great team to keep our potions flying off the shelves of our customers.”

“And how do you interact with the other departments?” she directed the floor back to Pansy who looked bored listening to Draco even as he complimented her.

“Well I think I’ve addressed the brewing department,” she waved her hand airily, “Outside of working with Cristiano, I work with Adrien and the herbologists to make sure the appropriate ingredients are stocked, and report our sales figures and future orders and projections to Draco and Theo monthly. Theo and I have been working more closely the last few months since we’ve shifted allocations to make sure we’re increasing production and sales at the right level on our higher margin products to hit the break-even points he’s calculated without overestimating our demand or ingredient needs.”

“Has it taken some trial and error to find the right balance?” Pansy, like the others, seemed knowledgeable about her department and its interactions with the others in a way that was deeper than just surface level. Not what Hermione had been expecting, but it was refreshing.

“According to her cost analysis it has,” Draco cocked his head at Pansy with a barely noticeable smirk.

She narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips, “It’s a brand new way of running things and projecting costs and needs,” she bit back before returning her stare to Hermione which still held a bit of fire, “So yes, there have been some sunk costs of finding the right balance. But that was anticipated and we’re on a good track now to brew what’s needed and maximize profits. We had to hire two more potions apprentices and open up another cauldron station so it was more the fixed costs that needed some trial and error.”

They continued talking through the changes in the brewing department for a bit until the clock approached noon.

“We’ve got the team lunch coming up,” Draco said as they left Pansy’s office, “You can drop your things in my office and we can walk over to the break room.”

“I thought you and Pansy were friends?” Hermione couldn’t help but ask as they walked back to his office, “I picked up on some animosity between you.”

Draco looked over at her with his brows furrowed, “Pansy is my best friend,” he stated without hesitation, “She’s like a sister to me. I guess you could say we bicker and challenge each other in our interactions,” he allowed, “But she calls out my faults and our competitiveness makes the other work harder. There’s no animosity.”

Hermione tried to piece together how that worked, “Slytherin relationships are complicated,” she said under her breath.

“Doesn’t make them any less than,” he shrugged, pushing open his own door, “Do you feel more confident in the executive team after talking with everyone?”

“I do, actually,” she said as she dropped the binder and her bag on the chair and returned to join Draco as they headed for the break room, “I can tell they’ve all got experience, even if I wouldn’t say they’re experts,” she side-eyed Draco who was side-eyeing her back, “But I did some thinking on your comment about innovation coming from people who are willing to do things differently and I don’t disagree with that. And obviously you  _ have _ accomplished a lot with this team.”

“Good,” he nodded, “Well, now you’ll meet the rest of the team over lunch. Our head house elf chef is named Beaker. His sous chefs are Lena and Pawny.”

“Did you interview house elves for the positions?” she asked with interest.

“No, I bought them from my father so they could get away from the Manor and have some freedom,” he said with bitterness in his voice, “I pay them fair wages here and they have living quarters off the kitchens.” He opened the next door for her as she looked back at him with a bit of surprise, her mouth opening to follow up on that comment, but before she had the chance, he ushered her inside where they were met with a roomful of people grabbing plates from the chefs and mingling around the expansive lounge area. She settled instead on a nod of respect, “I’m happy to hear that.”

The team seemed to be about forty people all together with the potioneers, apprentices, researchers and herbologists in the room. She was ushered around to meet everyone, doing her best to remember names and faces as she went. The house elves’ cooking was delectable, like she was back at Hogwarts almost, and she made sure to thank them before they left for the afternoon. 

They toured the greenhouses and the labs, and then Draco led her into a small lab off of his own office. She’d thought at first it was a closet when he went for the door, but it was a cozy space, maybe the size of a normal office, that seemed to be where he did his own tinkering with the potions when he was researching and fleshing out ideas.

“If you’re ready, we can start going through the in depth review of our developmental potions,” he said as they entered and the door closed behind them. The lighting was dimmer and more serene than his bright office that boasted overly large floor to ceiling windows, yet she felt a bit awkward at first in what felt like a private space. He’d decided, however, that it had made the most sense to work here, as to not disrupt normal business to finish what they’d scheduled for the day. And so together in a small lab space, Draco started pulling down vials from the shelf as she sat herself at the table in the middle.

O-o-o-o-o-o-o


	4. A Lesson in Potions

As Draco read through labels looking for the right vials, Hermione did her best to keep her eyes from wandering the room, which held glass cabinets of different mixtures — she assumed his trial potions — and shelves of ingredients and books. His office was clean and sleek, and this space was almost the opposite, filled with things she’d have loved to explore, if it hadn’t been Draco Malfoy’s personal space.

“So just an overview of the Dark Maladies line,” Draco began as he walked over with a few different items he began organizing off to the side, “The goal of this line is to treat both mental and physical aspects of trauma. Some are quick remedies for everyday ailments such as anxiety, depression, or trouble sleeping, and some aim to treat more long-lasting effects of dark curses.”

Hermione nodded, taking some general notes as he grabbed the first potion.

“This potion is called Cheery Solution,” he set a small vial with a sky blue liquid on the table and she turned her attention to him again, “In essence it causes the users muscles to pull into a smile for a duration of time, depending how large of a dose is taken. It’s been proven that smiling can actually improve your mood, so that’s the goal of this one. It’s our most simple potion in the line; something that doesn’t alter anything mental, but can be used on a more regular basis for boosts in positivity when needed and it’s safe for all ages.”

“And any side effects?” Hermione asked.

"Yes, the current side effect is that for some reason it can cause the user to hum a song, whatever’s on their mind, while the potion is in effect. Haven’t quite figured out what ingredients are interacting to cause that, but that’s what we’re working through.”

“Ah, I see the trouble there,” she noted it down on her parchment as he grabbed the next bottle.

"This one is called Dream Aid, and it’s almost a line on its own,” he set down the vial where a white liquid swirled inside, “You can build your own dreams with this one. We’ll sell it as a base potion, and then we offer a package of additive ingredients that will set the scene of the dream. Took a lot of trial and error on this one. The scenes are nothing overly specific, you can’t pick out who’s there or what conversations are occurring, of course, but we’ve found ingredients that when mixed with the solution will cause you to dream about hobbies, people, school/work, or animals - taps into different areas of the brain depending on the additive. We’re still testing additional ingredients to see if we can find some more general settings we could add, but it’s a fair start. We did find one that tapped into memories, but given what the line is combating, we weren’t sure that would be a totally safe space.”

“Right, makes sense.”

“The base potion itself is designed to keep the state of mind positive and happy. So if you just take that, it’s got an eighty-five percent effective rate of keeping dreams positive, whatever they may be. With the addition of the additives for subject matter, the percentage increases to about ninety-eight percent positive. This potion is actually through our testing phase, but we’re still doing some tinkering to find some more settings, as I mentioned. Not sure how many people _want_ to dream about work or school. It’d be nice to have more options.”

Hermione unintentionally let out a chuckle before she cleared her throat a little, “Any side effects with this one?”

“Nothing unmarketable, actually, but I will say sometimes the dreams are a bit off the wall.”

“How so?” she asked with curiosity.

“Well I took the potion with an additive for the animal setting, thinking I’d just be petting a cat or something, but in my dream I became a frog who was having dinner with a moose in Paris on Christmas. Our waiter was a penguin and we kept making jokes about being vegetarian. It was a pleasant dream, but odd to say the least. And vivid.”

Hermione laughed outwardly this time before she stifled it, “Off the wall,” she nodded, “Yes, I see what you mean.”

Draco ignored the odd feeling that passed through him at hearing her laugh; something that sounded significantly foreign to him, but not necessarily unpleasant. Without pause, he continued going through the potions one by one until they started reaching the ones more directed at dark magic.

“So moving away from our testing phase potions, this is the first one I’ll show you from the development stage. It’s called Absorption Serum. It protects the user against cursed objects if taken preemptively and can counteract non-lethal cursed objects if taken immediately after contact. I created this with Aurors in mind.”

“So it’s just non-lethal, correct?” she asked, jotting something down.

“If taken after, yes. If taken preemptively, lethal as well.”

Hermione looked up from her parchment. She had already been beyond impressed with the potion when she’d read the overview provided in his funding request paperwork, but was stunned by his clarification, “Really?”

“Really,” he held it up, looking at it through the vial, it was midnight black and smooth and almost glistened in the candlelight, “I told you this line could change lives, Granger.”

“How did you come up with this?” she asked.

“Well, we’ve got antidotes to poisons, right? So I started researching antidotes and how to make something last for a duration of time in order to create an antidote that could be proactive and retroactive at the same time,” he looked over at her with what seemed like a small smile, “This was one of my first ideas to research interactions with dark magic. I’d read about acromantula venom, in small doses, being able to remove curses from objects as it essentially vaporizes the top layer of anything it comes in contact with. And then one day I was reading about Gurdyroot, which is a common antidote ingredient, but I came across a couple key facts about it that made it stick out. One characteristic is that it acts almost like a natural adhesive, and has an especially strong bond with molecular cells. Another interesting characteristic is that it’s one of the few things that is immune to acromantula venom. And _that_ is when I discovered that acromantula venom, when mixed with gurdyroot, acts as a natural shield for your cells.”

“And how’s that work? Break that down for me a bit,” she asked, looking at the vial with intrigue for a moment before she returned her attention to him.

“When ingested, the gurdyroot latches directly to the cells in your body and the acromantula venom attaches to the outside of the gurdyroot. So if you think of it in layers, you’ve got the cells in your body that are the innermost part; the vulnerable part. The gurdyroot is like a magnet to cells and latches onto those cells as the middle layer, and then the acromantula venom is the outermost layer closest to the skin. The venom is protected from attacking your cells by the gurdyroot, but if, say, you touch something cursed, the impact of that curse will be vaporized by the acromantula venom before it ever breaks through to your cells.”

“What about the skin contact with the cursed object?”

“Doesn’t matter,” he shrugged, “It’s the cells in your body that get impacted by curses, skin is just what absorbs it to get there. Protect the cells, you protect yourself.”

“Ingenious,” Hermione realized she hadn’t taken his eyes off him the entire time he’d been talking. It didn’t get past her how much research it must have taken to come to that conclusion, “So where are you in development?”

“Currently, we’re trying to figure out how to get it to spread all over the body, or at least to get it to spread to the parts of the body that would be most likely to come in contact with something - namely your hands, for example. We’ve tested the theory on a single cell with success, but directing it where it's needed, or figuring out if a dose large enough to spread all over is possible, and safe, is what we’re working on.”

“I realize this may be a silly question, but would this work for the killing curse?”

“Unfortunately no,” he sighed, “It’s just physical objects, not spoken curses. You couldn’t just take it and come out victorious in a duel without casting a protection charm.”

“Just had to ask,” she gave him a crooked smile.

Draco set the vial aside and grabbed the last one; a golden liquid sparking slightly inside, “And this one is called Cruci-Calm Tonic. It’s, ah - pretty self-explanatory. Aims to counteract the after effects of the Cruciatus curse.”

“Yes, this one certainly held a lot of my interest when I saw it on the list,” Hermione commented, not meeting his eye, “How’s it work and what’s the development status?”

“So it can quell the aftershocks of the curse for about three weeks; twenty-four days as of this last batch,” he said, looking over to meet her wide eyes, “We won’t be sure how it will affect different people until we get it into clinical testing, but it’s not quite ready for it yet.”

“So how do you know the duration, just an assumption from the ingredients and dosage?”

“I, ah,” he cleared his throat a little, “I tested it on myself once I knew it was safe to take. We preliminarily test all of our products on individual cells we’ve collected. It’s a simple enough separation charm after you’ve drawn blood to isolate the live cells and keep them in an active state, and then you can do preliminary testing on them to see how they react, in order to ensure safety and gauge an approximate effectiveness.”

She debated which part of that to dissect first before responding, “Is the cell testing normal protocol for development labs?”

“Yes,” he nodded slowly, glad she hadn’t addressed the first statement, at least yet, “I’d read about some different testing processes for healing potions, a lot of big labs do mostly creature-based testing or volunteer testing, which of course are cheaper and quicker, but this seemed like the way we _should_ be doing it. I consulted with Blaise when I first brought him on as well and he said his old company similarly tested their beautification potions with cell separation, so he had enough experience with it for us not to have to explore the alternatives.”

“And is testing them on yourself normal protocol?” she asked knowingly, lowering her eyes to her parchment.

He paused, considering her, “Would you prefer that I used volunteers to test them? Because in case you’re wondering, ‘volunteers’ is just a scientific nicety to describe testing on house elves who don’t know any better. You don’t get many witch or wizard volunteers, but families will volunteer their house elves to aid in scientific research if they see some benefit to themselves.”

She furrowed her brow, looking up again, thinking about all the work she’d done to protect house elves, “No, I didn’t realize that.”

“So yes, I test them on myself after the cell testing and before they go into clinical trials with our paid testers. So if you want to know the side effects for any of these, I can tell you first hand. Nothing goes into clinical trials until it’s gotten my approval.”

“There isn’t any other way to do it?”

“Not without involving someone or something else to be a guinea pig. Besides, as I said, by that point we’ve already ensured they’re safe to ingest, and have monitored the cells over an extended period for any unusual reactions or activity, so although there are side effects and they can be pretty bad sometimes, they won’t kill me and they won’t do anything irreversible.”

Hermione just nodded, feeling absolutely filled to the brim with questions she didn’t have the audacity to ask.

“So the side effect for this one,” he changed the subject, holding the vial up and inspecting it through the glass, “Which is keeping it in the developmental stage, is that when you first take it, it sends a shock through you that’s probably ten times worse than the normal jolt and it lasts about ten seconds. Almost as bad as the real curse, really. My notes currently describe it as _crippling_. Recovery time after taking it and before resuming any kind of normal activity is usually about eight minutes; Wipes out your energy.”

Hermione stared at him, “And is this… an improvement from the first version?”

“Yes,” he said simply, setting the vial down as the sparks jumped inside it, and facing her again.

“Care to elaborate?” She didn’t want to push, but she did have to report progress, and knowing how far they’d moved it along at this point would be a good measurement to have.

“Not entirely,” he said, internally debating whether it was information she needed.

“It’s just… it would be useful for my report to start working on some independent expectations.”

He didn’t speak for another moment as they stared at each other, “It used to last about a full minute on the first batch and I passed out from the pain. I came to about twenty minutes later and it took another ten to be able to push myself off the ground and into the chair. I’d say full recovery time was about fifty-three minutes. But it worked to stop the shocks for about fourteen days.”

“So you’ve improved both the longevity of the intended effects and the intensity of the side effects.”

“Yes. The first batch was brewed about two years ago. After that first try we spent another year in research before we brewed another. That one lasted about twenty seconds and recovery time was about seventeen minutes. Less severe than that first batch; no fainting, but the pain level was similar. Shocks stopped for twenty days with that batch.”

“So in another year you’ve decreased it another ten seconds of impact, nine minutes of recovery, and added four days of effectiveness,” she summarized as she wrote down the numbers she'd just calculated.

“Correct. My goal is to get the impact under five seconds and the recovery time under three minutes. Something bearable to take on a consistent basis. The lower the better, obviously, but that’s the threshold we’re aiming for that we think is marketable."

“Well it would save not only weeks of shocks, but also the anxiety of not knowing when it’s going to hit,” Hermione said, weighing the cost/benefit in her own mind, “Are you still working on improving longevity as well or is twenty-four days as good as it’s going to get?”

“Yes we’re working on it, but that one’s proving less variable. We’ve cut down the impact and recovery times by eighty-five percent but we’ve only really increased longevity seventy percent since that first batch. I’ve got some ideas I’d like to try, but based on current progress I’m thinking our best shot is about twenty-seven days.”

“Twenty-seven days would be a welcomed break,” she said honestly, “A monthly potion is a great alternative to the after effects of the curse and I think a lot of people would be interested, with less severe side effects of course. It’s great progress you’ve made, overall.”

“I know,” he gave her a cocky smile as he replaced the vial with the rest of the trial potions, trying to retain his normal confidence. He didn’t love sharing things that felt personal, but unfortunately, they fell into the category of research knowledge as well and he couldn’t just keep it to himself if she would be reporting on their progress.

“So outside of these potions, you’ve got one other in the preliminary research phase, correct?”

“Yes, the Brain Elixir,” he nodded, looking at his watch, “But it’s already later than I planned to keep you so we can save the details of that one for another day when I’m actually working on it since there aren’t any real updates to give you besides the fact that I’ve brewed it once, noted it’s not at a place where it’s safe to test, and am in the process of researching changes to the mixture, but have faith that I’m on a good path.”

“I’ve read the general details,” she nodded, “It’s incredibly intriguing so I do look forward to hearing updates as they happen. But if there’s no testing on it currently, makes sense to save it for later. 

“I’ll let you know the next time I schedule a brew for it. I expect it to be a couple months of researching before that point.”

“Good to have an idea of the timeline,” Hermione said, closing her notebook and stashing her quill away in her bag, “I think this was all very helpful today.” 

“Great,” taking that as a cue to wrap up, he started filing the vials away back into the cabinets, “When you arrive next week we can sit down and talk about what your normal visits will entail and create an itinerary that everyone can be ready for. I can circle up with my team to see if they have preferences on when is best to host you. Obviously our entire establishment is open for you to roam about as you’d like, but I figure you seem the type to like itineraries.”

She was unsure if it was a jab or not, but either way it wasn’t incorrect, “Sounds like a good plan. I’ll start on a weekly checklist and we can use that to create a schedule.” 

Draco opened the door for her and she grabbed her bag, walking back out into his office where the light was still streaming in the windows on an abnormally sunny August afternoon.

“Thank you for the tours and setting everything up today,” Hermione said as they walked together from his office and towards the reception area.

“I hope it gave you a good introduction to what we do here. Hopefully over the next year we’ll be able to make some good discoveries and progress together.”

She turned her head towards him to see him with a bit of a sarcastic grin on his face as he tried to make the best of it, “I hope so too,” she said matter-of-factly, eyebrows raised as though accepting a challenge.

They reached the marble tile of the reception area and Draco held his hand out to her, “See you next week.”

“Looking forward to it,” she said without thinking, shaking his hand firmly before she turned and headed for the fireplace on the other end of the room, her thoughts racing in her head as to whether or not she’d meant to say that or if it came off sincerely or too excitedly, or not excited enough, or rigid, or condescending, “Have a good night, Susan,” she waved as she passed the desk, trying to turn her brain off from overthinking their interaction. She still hadn’t pinpointed his personality or how to have a normal conversation that wasn’t focused on work-related items. She could talk to him forever about potions. He was incredibly knowledgeable and shockingly ethical about this processes. Well not _forever_ forever, just hypothetically, that was something she felt comfortable talking about with him. Just as an example. 

“Floo powder is on the mantle,” Susan called, breaking her from her thoughts, which seemed to be snowballing for some reason.

“Thank you,” she called back, grabbing a handful from the crystal bowl and throwing it into the fireplace, which burned green for her departure.

O-o-o-o-o-o-o

She arrived home that night, collapsing onto the couch to think about her takeaways from the day as Crookshanks jumped into her lap, his tail brushing lightly against her arm.

“It was quite the day, Crookshanks,” she said out loud, feeling like she needed to talk to someone about it, “I know you never met Malfoy, but trust me you wouldn't have liked him back at Hogwarts,” Crookshanks meowed, rubbing his head against Hermione’s hand, which she raised to absently run down his back, “He’s different now, though, I can tell. I’m not totally sure who he is, and I think it’s going to take some time to figure out, but I’m starting to realize he really cares about all this and it’s leaving me with so many questions and conflicting emotions. I mean, he’s testing the potions on _himself_ rather than using house elves. He actually _employs_ house elves,” she looked down at Crookshanks like the cat was going to gasp back at her, but he just meowed again, “I would have thought he’d jump at using them for free to test potions on, but instead he employs them in the kitchen and tests the potions himself. Makes me want to know why, you know.”

She sighed, knowing talking it out with a cat wasn’t going to get her much further. She had dinner plans with Harry and a few others tomorrow over at Ron and Hannah’s, maybe she’d talk about it with them. If Ron would let a conversation about Malfoy last longer than a sentence. She snorted lightly, _hell_ , she wouldn’t have let a conversation about Malfoy last longer than a sentence a month ago. And now the world was turned upside down and they were working together. Life could really throw you for a loop sometimes.

O-o-o-o-o-o-o

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! That was one of the more science-y chapters, hope I was able to explain everything well enough for it to be easy to read and enjoyable!! There aren't many others that get into it that deeply but I felt it was necessary to pull you fully into Draco's present-day life. Anyway, just wanted to say that I've been pretty giddy about finally getting this story out there after working on it the last four months so thank you to those who have reviewed and shared kudos so far, truly made my day!!
> 
> Chapter 5 will be up tomorrow and then I'll likely be posting every 3-5 days as I'll be back into the editing of my early chapters and writing of my later chapters. Wanted to get a good set up ready for you with these first few chapters!


	5. A Seat At The Table

“Everything looks great, Hannah,” Hermione said as Hannah finally sat down at the table with the rest of them. 

“She’s been cooking all day, I swear,” Ron looked around the spread hungrily, waiting to be given the go-ahead.

“You know I look forward to these dinner parties so I can use all the herbs from the garden,” Hannah admired her work proudly for a moment before gesturing to their guests, “Alright, dig in!”

Harry reached for the shepherd's pie in front of him, “Did you put Finn to bed already?”

“We took him for a night at my parents,” Ron said, “They’ve been begging to see him because we’ve been so busy lately. I figured with everyone coming over tonight it might be a good opportunity to let them have some time with him and let us have a nice, quiet adult evening. Worked out for everyone.”

“Not that we wouldn’t love for you all to spend some more time with Finn,” Hannah added, “But it is nice to have a night to ourselves. He’s just so talkative and active now. It’s wonderful, but as exhausting as you’d imagine.”

“He’s five or six now, right?” Hermione asked.

“Turns six next month,” Hannah gave her a gushing smile she couldn't suppress, “We got him his first toy broom this year. He’s going to be so excited.”

“Going to be a keeper like his dad,” Ron grinned, “Looking forward to him taking over on the Gryffindor team.”

“Unless he’s a Hufflepuff,” Hannah said in a singsong voice.

Harry laughed with the rest of them, setting down his butterbeer, “How are the Hogwarts greenhouses, Neville?” 

“They’re flourishing,” Neville nodded slowly as he scooped a stack of grilled vegetables onto his plate before passing the spoon to Luna, who was beside him.

“That didn’t sound as excited as we’d anticipated,” Hermione noted questioningly.

“Neville’s just being polite,” Luna said airily, “He’s been feeling under-appreciated at Hogwarts. They created this role for him years ago to work side by side with Professor Sprout but there just hasn’t been anywhere to grow.”

Neville looked at her like he’d have preferred she not get into it before addressing the group again, “But the experience is still unparalleled, you know, so I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Doing research at Hogwarts, and with Pomona and Horace, has been really rewarding. It’s just that I’ve been thinking maybe I’d like to take this wonderful experience and try something new.”

“What is it you’re doing over there again?” Ron asked, already halfway through his first plate.

“Teaching first through third year Herbology, and tending to the greenhouses to keep the Potions storeroom stocked for Horace. I help him out with some research he’s doing on the weekends. Horace took a liking to me for some reason the last few years so I’ve been his consultant on ingredients and such as he’s testing and preparing potions for classes. You know how he likes to do his competitions and prize potions.”

“Why isn’t Sprout doing that stuff anymore — tending to the greenhouses and helping out Slughorn?” Ron asked.

“Hagrid and Sprout have been splitting Groundskeeping duties since he returned to teach,” Neville relayed, “He takes three day weekends to visit Grawp in the mountains so Pomona takes over his duties while he’s gone. The extra responsibility it left her with is what opened them up to creating my position. Someone to take some of her class load and extra greenhouse duties. Horace I just ended up with because he kept asking me to help and I gave in eventually. Glad I did, actually, because it’s made me think about Herbology in a totally different way.”

“But eight years of being an assistant professor and greenhouse keeper is a long time without any changes on the horizon,” Luna said, looking at him sweetly before turning back to Ron, “Neville loves Hogwarts, of course, but he’s been considering what else he could do in the field.”

Hermione cleared her throat a little, feeling like this was a good time to bring up what was on her mind, “I’m actually working with Draconis Laboratories right now on some developmental potions they’re brewing. They’ve got big greenhouses and Herbologists to consult with as well. Have you considered something in development or research?”

“I have, it’s just a big change,” Neville sighed, “Going from Hogwarts, where I’m comfortable and happy, and moving to those big companies that are all about hierarchy and bottom lines… I don’t know if that life’s for me.”

“All the employees seem really happy at this company,” she said thoughtfully, “Just a complimentary field to consider.”

“Did you say Draconis Laboratories?” Hannah asked, “The one Draco Malfoy owns?”

“Mhm,” Hermione nodded as she swallowed a bite of food, “Yes, I’m going there weekly to oversee their research project that the Ministry is funding.”

“Hang on, _going_ there?” Ron said incredulously, “I thought you just meant they’d been coming in for permits or something.”

“No, I am physically going there and working with Draco and his team directly,” she said, looking up to meet his eye to see his reaction.

“Why in the world is Shacklebolt making you actually _go_ there?” His face scrunched up in a look of disgust, “I’d just quit now if I were you. You can get a job anywhere else. Once a week with Malfoy sounds like a dealbreaker.”

“I think that’s a bit harsh, Ron,” Harry said wryly.

“I heard it’s actually really nice over there,” Hannah said, “My friend Susan works there. She just loves it. Says Draco’s vision for the company is incredibly valiant.”

Ron looked over at her like she had three heads, “Malfoy? _Valiant_? Hermione, can you please remind them who Malfoy is.”

Hermione knew he’d normally expect her to side with him, so she gave him an uncertain smile, “Actually, I think what they’re working on is really wonderful, and very impressive. They’re brewing potions aimed at counteracting dark magic.”

Ron opened his mouth and then closed it again, “I’m confused. Did Harry finally get to you and convince you that Malfoy isn’t that bad?”

“She figured it out all on her own,” Harry held his hands up innocently.

“Ronny, Susan said he’s really changed since the war. I know you don’t like to talk about him, but it really does sound like it. Though I understand I never had the relationship with him that you all did,” she looked at his glass that was empty in front of him, “Here, let me get you another butterbeer.”

Ron looked like he was deciding between another retort and a thank you, and he went with the latter, giving Hermione another opportunity to jump in.

“I spent the day there on Friday. His team is basically all the old Slytherins but they really have some good experience in their fields, and it seems everyone at the company has a lot of pride in working there. The line they’re working on is revolutionary. It could really help people.”

Ron opened his mouth again, but Hannah had returned, “Here you go, sweetheart,” she handed him a new glass with a smile. He opted for another thank you.

“So they’re developing potions?” Neville asked, “With clinical testing and all that?”

“Yes,” Hermione nodded, thankful that Hannah was so good at calming and distracting Ron when he got into his feisty moods in a way she’d never been able to, “They have a research and development lab where they test new potions and then they have a separate lab for brewing standard potions to sell to the apothecaries to make money.”

“They haven’t got any openings in the greenhouses have they?” Neville asked with interest.

“ _You_ want to work for Malfoy?” Ron looked like he couldn't believe the conversation that was happening at the table, “Did we all just forget what he did?”

“I haven’t forgotten,” Neville said a little quieter with a shrug as he avoided his eye, clearing his throat before he continued in a more confident voice, “But we all saw him walk away in the end… and it’s been a long time and it sounds like Harry and Hermione see more in him now. I’m not saying I _would_ work there, but I _am_ in the market for a job change and it sounds really interesting. I’d at least give him a chance.”

“He was a strange boy at Hogwarts,” Luna commented, “He always seemed so arrogant but so lost.”

“Lost?” Harry asked, “Why do you say that?”

“There was always just something behind his eyes,” Luna said thoughtfully, “Something that looked like he was screaming for help, even when he was being mean. And also the wrackspurts. He always had a head full of them. Always a sign of indecision and inner turmoil.”

Even Ron couldn’t help but grin at the last comment.

“So what do you think, Hermione? Any open positions there?” 

“Unfortunately I don’t think there are. But I’ll mention to him that you’re in the market with a great resume if they end up with some herbology positions to fill.”

“That’d be appreciated,” Neville gave her a small smile, “Have to branch out eventually.”

“How’s Ginny doing?” Luna asked Ron, who glanced awkwardly at Harry.

“It’s fine, Ron,” Harry gave a small chuckle, “Really. It’s been years.”

“Sorry, I’ve brought up an uncomfortable subject, haven’t I?” Luna said bluntly.

“It’s not uncomfortable,” Harry shook his head, “We dated for awhile and it didn’t work out. We’ve both moved on and grown up and she’s happy now and that’s what matters,” he looked back at Ron pointedly, “And we’re still friends, _good_ friends, it’s really no big deal.”

“Just weird you used to date my sister,” he gave him a crooked smile before turning back to Luna, “She’s good. Seventh season with the Harpies. She’s coming round for dinner in a couple weeks, actually, along with George and Angelina, if anyone wants to join.”

“Is Katie not able to join for dinner?” Neville asked, knowing full well Harry didn’t mind talking about Ginny, and that they had both respectfully moved on in their lives.

“No, they actually split a few months ago,” Hannah responded with a sigh, “Katie was traded to the Wasps last season and Ginny said it had just gotten too difficult to align their schedules to see each other. Sounded like an amicable split and Ginny was in high spirits the last we talked to her. Always feels like things happen for a reason and that something better must be on the way.”

“Well we’d love to join for dinner when she’s in town,” Hermione said to a general murmur of excited acceptances from the rest of the group as they put it on their mental calendars. They didn’t see Ginny much with her busy practice and game schedule. 

As everyone sat back, full from the meal, and started chatting, Hannah began clearing the plates and dishes with a levitating charm back to the kitchen as she followed them all back.

“How’s the Quibbler, Luna?” Harry asked, hoping he’d left room for whatever Hannah had cooked up next.

“Thriving. Our subscriptions have been up ever since the story we printed about mutinous wrigglebores was confirmed by an independent Magizoologist.”

“What’re—”

But Ron’s question was cut off as Hannah brought out dessert and everyone fawned over the beautiful details, which included icing roses whose petals were glimmering with fairy dust that kept magically sprinkling itself all over the cake. Slices were doled out and they eventually got back to their conversation on mutinous wrigglebores as the friends enjoyed a long evening of catching up and recanting stories over a few more bottles of butterbeer. They weren’t able to get together like this as often as they’d all like, so the time together was special, and always difficult to leave.

O-o-o-o-o-o-o

Draco took the head chair in the conference room of Draconis Laboratories Thursday afternoon where his colleagues were all talking amongst themselves.

“What a fucking week,” Pansy said quietly to him as she settled into the seat next to his.

“I know, and Granger comes back tomorrow, of course,” he said with a tinge of annoyance, “Perfect timing.”

The last seat in the room was open for Theo as he walked in with a stack of financial reports that he passed out to everyone as he made the way around the table and to his seat, “Hot off the press."

Once he was seated, Draco clasped his hands on the table, “Alright, so tomorrow we’ve got our Ministry official coming back for their weekly visit—”

“You mean Granger?” Blaise asked curiously, “Have they changed our Ministry liaison or are you just avoiding saying her name?” 

Draco stared at him an extra moment, “Granger will be returning tomorrow,” he turned his head from Blaise and continued in step, “And as you all know, we had a bit of a setback with a bad crop of Gurdyroot. Nothing we can do about it, unfortunately, just a bad supply and we’ve reached out to the seed distributor to figure out if this is an isolated case or something they’re handling on a bigger scale. Given the decrease in our availability of the herb, Theo put together a cost analysis of purchasing the Gurdyroot from another greenhouse for the short term while we replant our own and wait for them to grow, versus putting the research and testing on hold for those potions that rely on it. Which, unfortunately, are our bigger and less developed potions. Theo do you want to go through the specifics?”

“Of course,” he motioned for everyone to grab their packets he’d handed out as he delved into his findings on the supplier options and the timeline setback of potentially halting a round of testing.

As he talked Draco kept running through his head how this would look in their weekly review the following day. Would she document it as a failure of the Herbology department? Because it most certainly was not. It was clear from the harvest that something was wrong with the whole batch of seeds. How it could have happened, however, he had no idea. He didn’t really think she would, he knew deep down she wanted to see them succeed, but it was hard not to worry with the setback.

“Draco, in favor of purchasing the Gurdyroot from a supplier?” Theo asked, breaking him from his thoughts.

The group made big financial decisions together through a voting system with the five of them after being presented all the facts so that no department felt their needs weren’t being considered. Theo had gone around the room one at a time for the vote and luckily Draco had already read up on all of the data points behind the two options and he nodded his head, “In favor.”

“Great, that wins 4-1 then.” 

“Vote results are recorded,” Susan chimed in, noting the outcome in the meeting minutes.

Draco looked over at Pansy, “This one’s going to fall into your wheelhouse if you could reach out to two or three of the best suppliers Theo researched and get some bids. We’ll need a few pallets.

Pansy scrawled some notes across a piece of parchment with a nod of her head.

“Alright, so next piece of business — Granger sent over her checklist of things she wants to review and check in on each week when she’s out here, which Susan worked on converting into an itinerary,” Draco gave her an appreciative nod before he took his own stack of papers and flicked his wand to pass them around, “Read through this and get back to me by end of day with your comments. If the proposed times don’t work for you to devote that time each week, we can move the itinerary around a little, but this is what Susan thought made the most sense given day to day operations.”

“Looks like you’re going to be spending a lot of time with Granger in the afternoons,” Pansy said coyly, looking through her own copy.

“Well I’m the one doing the most hands on tinkering of these developmental potions and part of what she had on her checklist was to walk through changes to the mixtures from week to week as we progress,” he said a little defensively, “So I thought it made sense to set aside the last couple hours of her day for development updates in my potions lab. It may not always be that long, just figured it made sense to block it out.”

“Lots of one-on-one time,” Blaise chimed in.

“Might be good for him,” Pansy grinned back at Blaise.

“She seems interested in all this, though,” Theo said thoughtfully, “Might be nice to have a fresh set of eyes as we go along and we all know she’s a smart pair of eyes to have on board.”

“I thought she was nice as well,” Adrien said evenly from the other side of the table, “I look forward to her insights.”

“Oh Adrien,” Pansy sighed, “You just don’t know her like we do. She’s perfectly nice and obviously brilliant, there’s just a lot of history behind it all that makes it very odd for her to be here standing over our shoulders while we work.”

“Draco explained this all to me at Durmstrang. About Harry Potter and his friends and how you were not, ah, in the same group, shall we say. But we are adults. She seemed very professional, I’m sure it will not be as uncomfortable as you think. We all have the same goal.”

“Talking about Harry Potter to Adrien at night in the dorms?” Pansy’s grin turned to Draco.

“Oh stop, it was relevant.”

She turned back to Adrien, “We all think he really wanted to be best friends with Potter back at school, but he turned down his friendship day one and Draco’s ego never recovered.”

“We’re on perfectly fine terms now,” Draco was getting annoyed with her demeanor, this was _his_ meeting to lead, but also the downfall of working with all of his friends, “And I agree with Adrien. She was perfectly professional when she was here and she’s clearly incredibly interested in what we’re doing. I could tell as I was going through the developmental potions with her. She wants us to succeed as much as we want to succeed. I know it’s going to be a change to have someone overseeing our processes, but we’re able to keep going, and that’s what’s important.”

Pansy could tell she’d gotten under Draco’s skin and reduced her grin to a thin smile, trying to dial it back, “Well I will be ready to host Ms. Granger during my scheduled time tomorrow and will be nothing but open and cooperative.”

“Good,” he said with a look before turning to the table, “Does anyone have any other business to discuss?”

“Just a quick timeline update,” Blaise took the floor, “Based on the time it’s going to take us to procure the Gurdyroot, we’re just going to swap some testing timelines for the next week and focus on the Dimmer Potion and Filtration Mixture, as opposed to the Absorption Serum and Essence of Space.”

Draco jotted down a few notes of his own with a nod, “Makes sense. Will those two take up a similar amount of time for research?”

“More of the time will be in clinical trial analysis and documentation, versus research.”

Draco jotted down a few more notes as Theo and Adrien did as well, to update their projected budgets for ingredient usage and stock reserves, respectively.

“Anyone else?” Draco asked, which was followed by some head shakes, “Great, sounds like we’ve all got some takeaways so we’ll wrap the meeting here. Susan, if you could send around minutes this afternoon.”

“You should have them within the hour,” she said brightly, slipping her notes into a folder.

Pansy followed Draco to his office as they dispersed, closing the door behind her, “I got on your nerves earlier, didn’t I,” it was rhetorical and he looked up from the seat at his desk he’d just taken, waiting for her to continue, “It’s just odd, having her here. Feels like… I don’t know, payback? For what terrors we were at school. Don’t you think? Makes me nervous something will take a turn and she’ll pull the funding.”

“Maybe it’s payback we deserve,” he said, letting a long breath of air out of his nose, “But either way, I really don’t think she’s holding this funding over us. She could, that’s for sure, but I don’t think she is. I think she made the decision after my first meeting with her that she wanted to see what we’ve got and she wanted to see it through.”

“What did you say to her to get her to reconsider? I wasn’t under the impression you’d reconciled with her like you had with Potter.”

Draco considered her, “She suggested I use my Malfoy inheritance to fund the research,” he said simply.

Pansy snorted, “ _What_ Malfoy inheritance.”

“Right, but she didn’t know that, how would she. So I not so casually mentioned that I only used part of what my grandmother left me and that I wouldn’t put the Malfoy name on these discoveries if my whole life depended on it. In so many words.”

“Ah, the air of intrigue, good angle.”

“I didn’t mean to, honestly. She just pissed me off and it came out.”

“Maybe her and I together can challenge you enough to pull out what we need to see this project through, then,” Pansy said, looking curious.

“Or maybe we can all just be adults and work together like professionals to find a solution,” he cocked his head at her, “That sounds like a decent thing to try, doesn’t it?”

“I like my idea better,” Pansy winked at him, turning for the door, “See you at lunch.”

O-o-o-o-o-o-o


	6. Weekly Itineraries

Hermione felt a little less anxious than her last visit as she stepped out of the fire into the reception area of Draconis Laboratories Friday morning, brushing her blazer off as she walked towards Susan, who was waving at her with a broad smile.

“Good morning, Hermione,” she said, stepping out from around the desk, “Draco said I could just take you back today.”

“Great,” Hermione smiled back at her, “Thank you for dropping off the itinerary last night, by the way. Glad I had a chance to update my checklists into the right order.”

“Of course. Draco said he’ll be preparing weekly summaries, mixture change logs and trial updates for you beginning next week so I’ll be stopping by with those around lunch time on Thursdays so you can review before your visits.”

“That would be very helpful,” she nodded as they walked down the hallway towards the executive suites, “Perhaps he’s hoping the more I know before, the less time I’ll have to spend here."

“Maybe,” she allowed, “But it sounded like he just thought it was something you’d appreciate and he wants this to all go smoothly," she knocked on Draco’s door before pushing it open, “Hermione is here for you.”

“Thanks, Susan,” he said, looking up from his parchment where he’d been actively writing something, “Come on in, Her-” he cleared his throat, “Granger. Just finishing something up, you can take a seat.”

Hermione walked forward as Susan pulled the door shut behind her, “Hermione works, you know. If I’m calling you Draco now, and whatnot.”

“Susan said your name, it was just an auto reaction,” he said without looking up as he signed his name on the parchment in front of him and began rolling it up.

Hermione sat, placing her briefcase at her side and crossing her legs. She’d worn a skirt suit today, unsure if it was a subconscious decision based on how Pansy had been dressed on her last visit, or if she had just thrown it on today in its normal rotation, “I do think it would only be fair if I got first name treatment as well,” she said with a hint of jest. She’d had a perfectly nice visit last week and had come into this week looking forward to observing the operations and delving deeper into their business. She wanted this to be a pleasant experience and the prior week had shown that was possible.

“Don’t make this a thing if it doesn’t matter to you, it was just an honest slip up,” he responded with an annoyed sigh, mostly out of embarrassment that he’d let it start to slip after nineteen years of never using it. If he’d just gone with it, maybe that would have been less awkward than correcting himself. He placed the rolled up parchment to the side to go out with the afternoon owls and sat forward in his chair, finally looking up at her. Her lip was curled up slightly and she sat with her hands clasped around her knee. He couldn’t help but notice that she looked quite nice today; like she had put more effort into her appearance, not that she really needed to. Her hair was down and styled, (with sleek-eazy potion, if he had to guess), instead of in its normal tight bun, and her suit looked neatly pressed. He noticed the skirt, but kept his eyes at an appropriate level, women wore skirt suits all the time, this was nothing unusual. 

“I actually quite like being called by my first name,” she responded, “If you can request it, I’d like to do the same.”

He stared back at her, regretting his first few words of the day that had put him in this predicament. It wasn’t a big deal, but for some reason it felt like one. His best option was to play it off nonchalantly, however, “Fine. Fair is fair. Good morning, Hermione,” it felt odd rolling off his tongue; such a pronounced name, unique to the woman in front of him. He continued without pause, however, “I’m sure you’ve taken the time to look through the itinerary we prepared for your visits, but I thought a thirty minute meeting first thing will be helpful to give you a brief overview of the week and for you to inquire on anything you need to know before your rounds. And then we’ll end out the day together in the potions lab going through updates and changes.”

She could sense his discomfort, but was impressed with his ability to play it off, “Yes, the itinerary was very thorough and appreciated. We can get started, if you’d like. What updates do you have?”

“Well, we’ve got an interesting scenario that occurred this week,” he began before proceeding to tell her about the Gurdyroot debacle.

“Well that’s concerning,” she responded, “So what have you done in response?”

“Theo performed a cost analysis on some different options and presented them to the executive team yesterday and we decided to purchase a supply from a third-party. Enough for about a month and a half - the amount of time it should take us to replant and grow a new crop for ourselves. The costs are obviously higher than the alternative, which would be to halt research of those potions that require it, but research is our focus and the setback would have been incremental to the monetary costs incurred.”

Hermione nodded as she thought for a moment, “Is that your normal process for decision making?”

“Yes, all financial decisions go through a vote by the executive team after thorough analysis of the variables and options.”

“Sounds like you’ve got it taken care of then, how much did it set you back timing wise to order from a supplier?”

“Pansy negotiated some bids yesterday and we chose our supplier so they’ll deliver the first pallet on Wednesday. Overall we lost about 3-4 days, but when compared to six weeks of research, it was the right call.”

“Okay,” she said, grabbing her notepad from her briefcase and jotting down some notes.

“Do you have any follow up questions on the issue? Or do you feel it hinders the progress you were hoping to see?”

“No,” Hermione said honestly, “It actually just gives me faith that you have a process in place for problem solving when issues arise. Sounds like it was well handled.”

Draco tried to hide his surprise. He’d been thinking a bit too much about Pansy’s concern that it was something she could hold against them, but she seemed quite relaxed, “Wonderful. Well, other than that, we’ve focused on the Leveling Draught and Dream Aid research this week. For the Dream Aid, we think we’ve isolated the intensity of the dreams to a matter of dosage. Seems a lower dose of the potion will garner similar effectiveness in results with less intense or odd dreams.”

“Interesting,” Hermione made some notes, “What do you think the reason behind that is?”

“The concentration of the active ingredient - Armadillo Bile - it’s potent enough to carry the effects even in a smaller dosage. I thought perhaps we could increase the effectiveness with a higher dosage but it doesn’t seem to impact it like I thought it was. Effectiveness only fell 2% to 96% effective, including additives, with decreasing the dosage by a half and it’s virtually wiped out the absurdity of the dreams.”

“That’s great progress. That was the biggest hold up with the Dream Aid, was it not?”

“Yes, in my opinion it’s totally marketable now so we’ll just take some extra time to do those subject matter tests with some more ingredients and then we’ll likely move it into the final clinical trials before approvals.”

“Wonderful. Anything else of note from the week?”

Draco mentioned a few other minor updates to testing statistics, noting they would go through the physical changes of the potions in their afternoon session. After a little while longer, they wrapped up their update meeting and Draco showed her to the Herbology department, where she would be moving on to the next item on the itinerary.

She’d spent an hour in the greenhouse, where Adrien had met her and they had sat down to go through their updates for the week — what herbs they were focusing on for which labs and how the crops had been growing. He again mentioned the Gurdyroot and his disappointment in the bad batch. He’d said he’d never seen anything like it before, but was working closely with their seed supplier to determine what happened. He sounded like he suspected foul play, although she wasn’t sure who would want to sabotage a potions brewing company and chalked it up to a bout of bad luck, as the rest of them seemed to be doing. She enjoyed Adrien. He was straight-forward and professional, but polite and warm underneath it. He didn't need to flash her a big smile or make a few jokes to make her feel welcome and comfortable. After their update, she’d shadowed him through the greenhouse as he worked, asking questions here or there along the way.

She next moved on to the Brewing Department, where Pansy met her, introducing her to Cristiano, who hadn’t been in the office on her last visit. Pansy was just as suave and nonchalant as the last time they’d met and she did her best to keep up as she strutted down the line of cauldrons, talking about how their transition into higher marketable potions output had been going so far — which sounded positive overall. Cristiano was an older gentleman, tall and slender with a head of grey hair that flowed to his shoulders, but was kept back in a low bun in the lab, and a square set of glasses that sat on the end of his nose. The clothes under his lab coat were fashionable, a floral patterned, light blue and burgundy button down tucked into navy pants with a pristinely shined silver belt buckle holding them in place. He seemed well-spoken and very proud of the department he ran. He showered Pansy with compliments on how she’d handled leading the transition and preparing the team for the influx of work and Pansy had graciously complimented him back on his implementation and consistent quality. They were quite the pair, Hermione thought, but Cristiano seemed to bring out a genuine and humbled side of Pansy that she hadn’t seen around the rest of her team.

Draco had scheduled an hour lunch in between her sessions and she’d excused herself to apparate to a cafe in London for some time to herself. They had all been perfectly cordial, but she wasn’t quite comfortable enough to overstay her welcome and invite herself to lunch, or to know how to sustain conversation through that hypothetical lunch. Maybe eventually she’d give it a shot, but small steps were working for now.

Upon her return, she’d met Blaise in the Research lab for their two hour session to talk about and observe the clinical trials. She’d sat in on one he had scheduled, jotting down some notes on what attributes he tested when administering the potions. Today’s trial was for their Leveling Draught. This was the one that she considered similar to Draught of Peace, only instead of making you overly and unnaturally _chill_ and calm, it aimed to simply reduce your heart rate and normalize your breathing, which naturally helped to calm someone. It was aimed at combating panic attacks, but in small doses could also be used on a daily basis to take when you woke up and start your day grounded. This potion was through the development stage — meaning Draco had probably taken it himself enough times — and they had paid testers who were being monitored to take it in trials. 

Blaise took her into a room where a wizard, probably in his early twenties, was walking along a thin piece of pavement underneath his feet that Hermione noted moved an awful lot like a treadmill without the actual machine. Blaise had asked the tester to step off and had taken his vitals, noting to Hermione a heightened heart rate and heavier breathing. He’d then administered the potion in the higher dosage used for panic attacks and they’d watched as the tester started breathing heavier and heavier, Hermione starting to feel a bit concerned he was going to hyperventilate as she looked between Blaise and the tester a couple of times. Just as she was about to say something, the tester held his breath and she watched, waiting, still not totally at ease, until five seconds later he let the breath out of his nose and looked over at Blaise with a nod. Blaise had taken his vitals again, which had stabilized to a resting heart rate. 

Blaise took down some additional notes like the side effects and resulting consistency of breaths. They sat there for a while, all talking casually, mostly about the trial, as Blaise continued to monitor the timing of breaths in and out every five minutes, noting they were consistent for the full hour of monitoring. He’d be spending the rest of the day taking vitals at longer intervals in between the other work he had planned as the tester hung out around his trial room, which boasted some books, a bed, a reading chair, and some one person wizarding games. She’d had her next session to get to and had thanked Blaise and the tester for letting her sit in before she left.

Next, she had an hour session with Theo, where he handed her the weekly financials he’d put together and went through the key items of note. Luckily for Hermione, she found the financial side of the business just as interesting as the rest of it and kept up with the details and specifics as he went along.

When she’d finished with her sessions for the day, she’d returned to Draco’s office, where he’d set down his work and led her to his potions room, pulling down the vial of Dream Aid from the shelf, as well as a few different jars of ingredients. He’d talked about the changes they’d made to the mixture, scooping out a small amount of Armadillo Bile from its jar to talk about the properties for a few minutes and how it impacted the potion. The walkthrough hadn’t taken as long as Hermione had anticipated and she thought it was possible they were done for the day, but as he put the vial of Dream Aid back on the shelf, he grabbed a few other jars from the shelf and set them on the table.

“My plan for the rest of the day was to tinker with the Dimmer Potion. I’m not sure what your interest level is in this idea, but you’ve seemed more knowledgeable on herbology and potions than most Ministry officials that could walk in here and for some reason you also seem attached to this project. So I wanted to offer for you to help me tinker. A fresh set of eyes never hurt the process, as Adrien pointed out to me the other day and I thought it might be a way for you to understand the start to finish of everything we do here to really be involved. Unless you’re not interested, or you think that would be crossing a professional line of your oversight.”

“No,” Hermione said quickly, feeling herself getting unnecessarily excited at the prospect of learning more about the development process in a hands-on environment, and simultaneously overlooking the inherent extra time together it would result in, “My job here is to document progress and be involved with the project. There’s certainly nothing that would bar me from participating on an intellectual level. Besides, anything I suggest you can disagree with and not implement, so it’s not an issue at all. I’d actually love if that was part of my weekly visits.”

“Good,” he said with an uncertain nod. The way her eyes lit up at the offer for her to learn something new was just not a look he was used to on someone who normally only looked at him like he was something offensive. Which he had been, of course; the looks were deserved even now, but this side of the girl in front of him was just something he was still trying to get used to and he couldn't help but notice that her smile was quite infectious, “Well let’s get started then,” his lip pulled up subconsciously as he set the vial off to the side and lit a fire under his cauldron with the flick of his wand, turning for some ingredients, “So what do you remember about the Dimmer Potion from our last meeting?”

“The Dimmer Potion,” Hermione thought for a moment, trying to sort through the different potions he’d shown her on her first visit, “This is the one that’s used to drown out thoughts, right? Fills your head with a kind of buzzing noise?”

“Correct,” he nodded as he walked over with a few different jars, “The goal is to neutralize all of your thoughts and leave a soft, calming buzz as you’re laying in bed to facilitate falling asleep quicker and more at ease.”

“And you’re working through decreasing the volume of the buzzing,” she recalled.

“Yes. Instead of calming, it’s a bit of a nuisance currently.”

“Great, I’m ready to see your process,” she flashed him a smile and he was again a bit caught off guard by how genuine it was.

“So I’ve narrowed the side effect down to an interaction happening between two of these ingredients,” he pointed to a line of four ingredient jars he’d pulled to the front, “In total this potion has about twelve ingredients, but based on what we know about those ingredients, I was able to pull out some possible interactions that could cause amplification or heightened sound waves inside the brain.”

He went through a quick summary of the ingredients he’d pulled out and why they may impact the side effects before he started unscrewing the lids on the jars spread around the counter as the water in his cauldron began to boil. He handed her a piece of parchment, “These are the brew instructions,” he said, turning back to what he’d been preparing, “I know them like the back of my hand by now, but I thought it might help you follow along.”

She looked down at the parchment, which was hand-written with crossed out lines and side notes and modifications. It somehow felt more authentic that way and she didn’t mind, reading through with a small smile before she set it in front of her. She watched as he performed each step of the potion, filling the silence with tidbits here and there about the ingredients and how he’d formulated the potion, in between her questions about his research.

“Alright, so now we’re down to our four interactive ingredients,” he said, “To be quite honest, sometimes my tinkering is a game of trial and error, so my goal today was going to be to decrease the Ashwinder egg, which I think may be interacting with the Dragon claw — one heightens brain activity and the other produces that foggy head feeling that’s needed to create the buzzing.

“Ashwinder egg, I’ve heard of that, why have I heard of that?”

Draco turned his head to her slowly, a bit of a smug look on his face, “It’s one of the main ingredients in love potions, have you been brewing some love potions on your off time?”

She stared back at him with pursed lips, “I most certainly don’t spend my free time on nonsense like that.”

He gave a small chuckle, “That’s the ingredient that results in the foggy head. You can see why that would be important for a love potion. Remind me to mind my drinks around you.”

“Like I’d be slipping _you_ a love potion,” she said airily, “Besides, I can’t imagine love potions work on Slytherins, I think having emotions is a prerequisite,” she jotted down some notes on her parchment for something to focus on, feeling her cheeks warm as a picture of him swooning over her popped into her head. She quickly dispelled it with a shake of her head, unsure why she would have even allowed the thought. He may have grown into an attractive man who could pull off a suit like nobody’s business, but this was still Draco Malfoy and there were so many issues with the idea of her thinking of him in that way. She felt a little annoyed, actually, that he had led her down the path of even considering those thoughts. And she only had because he’d brought up love potions while they were stuck in this enclosed space. 

Draco had noticed the blush that had crept up her neck and the smug look stayed on his face, enjoying that he’d elicited that reaction, not because he wanted her to feel uncomfortable, just because he found it funny that she’d blush at the idea of slipping him a love potion. He mentally noted that her comeback had been quick and decently witty, which wasn’t something he’d think to credit her with, “So by decreasing the Ashwinder Egg, I’m hoping it will reduce the fogginess and decrease the volume on the buzzing.”

“Why decrease the Ashwinder Egg versus the Dragon Claw?”

“I think I’ve calculated the perfect amount of Dragon Claw to heighten the activity for the entire brain — which we need to do so that the entire brain will react and clear with the potion. If I decrease, it may only heighten certain parts of the brain and other parts may go on with their regular thoughts, which would likely be muffled by the fogginess, but not muted.”

Hermione nodded, jotting down some more notes, feeling her face return to a normal temperature as they got back to business.

He’d added the ingredients, marking down on his own parchment the change in amount of Ashwinder Egg — three versus four — and began his seasoned stirs of the cauldron, “It’ll just need to brew for about an hour,” he said, “And then we can do a quick cell test to make sure I didn’t fuck anything up, and then I’ll try it out.”

Hermione wasn’t quite used to the kind of lax environment where language flowed freely — being inundated by Ministry culture her entire career — and stuttered a bit, “Oh, uh, yes. Great.”

He looked up from his parchment, “Sorry, not one for crude language?” He asked, noticing the change in tone.

“It’s not a problem, no,” she gave a small laugh, “Sorry, just used to being around a lot of older witches and wizards and keeping conversation polite and professional. This is a culture change.”

“I’m professional when I need to be,” he shrugged, “But you’re on my personal time right now if you want to do these developmental brewing sessions, I don’t think to watch the things I say in here like I do sitting in my chair at my desk playing CEO.”

“It’s fine, just caught me off guard. I’m really not as uptight as everyone seems to think I am.”

His lip pulled up again for the second time today, she was quite amusing in an odd way, “Whatever you say, Granger.”

“I thought we’d established I get to go by Hermione now.”

“Professionally,” he grinned, “You’re in _my_ space for these sessions and Granger is a better name to spar with.”

“Oh fine,” she sighed, “I’ll take the professional upgrade at least.” She was finding this less... uncomfortable than she'd anticipated and although there were plenty of things left unacknowledged between them, it was refreshing to find some level of normal interaction for their working arrangement that wasn't laced with the contempt of their past.

“Plus Hermione is such a mouthful,” he said, drawing out her name.

“You know what else is a mouthful?” She almost immediately took back her previous thoughts of considering that they were capable of mature conversation and gave him a perturbed look, confused when she was met by an even broader smirk.

“What’s that, Granger? What else is a _mouthful_?”

She stared at him, realizing he was taking her comment across the line, “Draco,” she drawled his name like he used to do when introducing himself, “And I don’t appreciate where your head went there.”

“You said it, not me, and your mind obviously went there too,” he said, “However I am sorry, you’re right, not professional. But you were the one who said you weren’t as uptight as everyone thought you were. Just testing the theory.” Was he just trying to prove she was uptight? Not intentionally. He just hadn't been able to bite back the comment before it slipped out with what would be his normal humor amongst friends. This wasn't somewhere he usually filtered himself and he did find her discomfort the slightest bit amusing, albeit that was admittedly unprofessional.

She really _wasn’t_ uptight, she was just trying to mask her embarrassment at the implication. Truthfully she’d walked right into his comment even if he shouldn’t have made it in a professional setting. He _had_ said this was his personal space and personal time, however, maybe the line was a little more blurred in here? _No, it was not, she was still working and she needed to heed the line, even if he was more casual_ , “Can we get back to the potion?”

“Not much to get back to,” he said, looking over at it, “It’s just got to brew for a bit,” he set his stirrer down and took a seat on the stool adjacent to her, “If you’re going to sit in on brew sessions there’s going to be some down time. So this is where we learn to make small talk,” he gave her an uncertain grin to acknowledge the unexplored territory as something they’d have to figure out, “Any plans this weekend?” He asked to try and transition the conversation.

She returned the look with a small huff of a laugh, “Well,” she started, preparing for the next step in their professional time together, “I’ll be at the Ministry on Sunday,” she said, “I’ve got a few memos to catch up on. And I think Harry and I are going to lunch tomorrow as I’ve got some shopping to do in Diagon Alley.”

“With Potter? Not Weasley? Figured you two would be married by now.”

Hermione looked back incredulously at him, “Gosh, no. We dated for maybe a year, but we were not a good fit romantically,” she cleared her throat a little at the word ‘romantically’, wishing she’d chosen a different one, and then continued without an awkward pause, “Both too stubborn for our own goods and much better friends than significant others. Ron is a lovely person, but we both knew pretty quickly that it wasn’t right, though we gave it a good shot for a while,” she didn’t know why she was telling him more than he needed to know, but she wanted to make it clear that she was not, nor did she want to be, with Ron. That ship had sailed long ago, “He’s married to Hannah Abbott. She works in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, she transferred in a few years after me from a local magical creatures healing center. She was the Lead of the Large and Dangerous Creatures division while I ran the Domesticated Creatures division.”

“That sounds like some good Ministry department drama.”

“Oh it really wasn’t,” she shook her head, “I mean Ron and I dated twelve years ago and they connected, gosh, eight years ago? It had certainly been a while and we’ve always stayed close friends. I just remember it was near the end of my time with the department and he was working an investigation with the Auror office relating to some large eggs they’d found on a raid that needed identifying so I pointed him to Hannah. She even asked me before their first date if it would be uncomfortable at all and I encouraged her to go for it. I actually thought they’d be a great fit, and they were. We also didn’t work that closely together besides having offices next to each other.”

“So you and Potter ended up together? I didn’t see that one coming for some reason,” he said with a slow nod of his head, unsure why he felt the interest to even ask, “Guessing that’s recent since he didn’t mention it the last time I saw him about a year ago.”

Hermione laughed this time, “Absolutely not. Harry is my best friend. We’re both single so we lunch on the weekends; Gets us both out of the house and we live in flats next door to each other so it makes it harder to be lazy and make up an excuse to stay in.”

“You’re next door neighbors?” he chuckled, “That’s cute.”

“And what about you?” she countered, head processing the word ‘cute’ coming from Draco Malfoy, even if it was a bit sarcastic, “Since we’re on the subject apparently and have time to kill.”

“Married,” he said with a sigh and she instinctively looked down at his hand and back up where a crooked smile was plastered back on his face, “To my work. Not much time to date when you’re founding a company at 25.”

She rolled her eyes, “I honestly feel similarly with Ministry life. I work six days a week, though Kingsley does tell me not to come in on Sundays. But there’s always something to do.”

“Yes, you seem the type to always find something that needs to be done.”

“I can disconnect when I need to,” she said defensively.

“I’m sure you can,” he said, his tone insinuating that he may or may not believe her.

“You’re not going to get under my skin like you think you are,” she narrowed her eyes.

“I’m sure I’m not.”

“I have plenty of other hobbies and engagements outside of work.”

“Of course you do.”

“And I have nothing to prove to you.”

“I never asked you to.”

They stared at each other for a moment and Hermione was getting quite annoyed with the quirk to his lip.

“Listen,” he finally said with another chuckle, ”You’re Undersecretary to the Minister at 30 and, I’m sure, first in line for the job when he retires. I’d never talk down on that accomplishment. I’m just fucking with you. I’m sure your life is perfectly fulfilling.” He felt a little bad for getting under her skin quite so thoroughly. But her feathers ruffled easily. Which was a little too fun. But also not something he should take advantage of if he wanted to continue their cordial relationship.

“Thank you,” she said, a little briskly, “That was actually quite nice of you to say.”

“Being focused on your work isn’t a bad thing. I’m here every weekend as well and I don’t regret it for a second. You and I are both trying to make a difference in the world. Takes commitment and sacrifice. Not everyone can handle that,” the expression on his face was quite genuine and they shared a look of mutual respect for a moment before he turned to check the clock on the wall, “I’m going to grab a book to read through some things I’ve been considering, would you like one as well?”

“Sure,” she nodded, “I’ll take one on different potions ingredients and properties.”

She watched as he stood from his chair to skim the bookshelf. Every encounter they had filled her with more questions. He’d just gone from making fun of her to… complimenting her? And the way he talked about his work made her feel like perhaps they were more like-minded than she thought.

They’d done some reading for a while at the table until some time passed and Draco looked back up to check the clock again, “Should be about ready,” he said, closing his book and replacing it on the shelf.

“Do you mind if I borrow this one?” Hermione asked, looking up. She was quite engrossed in an interesting section that she wanted to finish.

He looked over as he went to grab a vial, “Sure,” he shrugged indifferently, “Just bring it back when you’re done.”

He tested the potion on a cell he’d isolated from their stock and after watching for a reaction, he poured a small, measured amount into another vial, which he’d held up to the light to inspect before bringing it to his lips and downing it. Unfortunately, the results had been similar with the volume of the buzzing, however there was a background of soft thoughts he could hear faintly underneath the loud buzzing.

“Didn’t work,” he said a bit too loudly over the noise in his head, sitting back on the stool and closing his eyes. He’d told her he’d only taken a dosage to last about a minute so she waited patiently until it wore off and he sighed again, “Well I can check that off the list of ideas.” He relayed the results and they both took some notes as they packed up for the day. It had somehow been much longer than she’d realized and when they emerged into his office, the sun was low in the sky and the clock on the wall showed seven.

“Sorry I kept you late,” he said as they walked towards the reception area, “I should have known that potion would take a bit longer with the explanations and brew time.”

“I really don’t mind, seven isn’t a bad work night,” she said with a sideways look that he returned, “Besides, I really enjoyed learning more about the intricate details of ingredients and interactions. I’m going to do some more research on my off time—”

“Because you’ve got so much of it,” he quipped and she ignored him.

“—so I’ll see what my fresh eyes can bring back for you.”

“Sounds good, if you’ve got questions, just send an owl.”

They’d reached the reception area and he held out his hand, which she took with a small smile, “See you next week.”

O-o-o-o-o-o-o

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, gear up, we're about to take off on our romance plot :) Slow-burns are such a blessing and a curse because I love the lead in and build up but gosh I want y'all to get to the exciting parts as much as you want to! Next chapter should be up in a few days! Thanks so much again to everyone reviewing & leaving kudos. Totally makes my day to see them!! Please review if you've got a minute and let me know what you think so far!


	7. The Dragon Lair

Over the next month of working together, her visits went similarly. She’d hear updates from each of the executive members, stroll the greenhouses, observe operations of the marketable products brewing, sit in on trials, talk through financials and budget changes, and participate in the development research for a few hours with Draco at the end of each day. She was still stepping out at lunch for some time on her own; although she’d found a comfort level in talking about work with everyone, she still wasn’t sure they wanted to entertain her at lunch. 

Draco had kept their conversation more generic during their down time in the brewing process, outside of the quick conversation they’d had that first research session on significant others. She assumed he thought he’d overstepped and was trying to find a way to stay professional, but casual. He’d asked about her work in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures and her transition into the Minister’s office. And he’d been oddly _interested_ in it, which was a stark difference from when she tried to talk to Harry or Ron about the work she did. They listened, of course, but it was always hard to hold their attention through whatever details she was relaying.

“Ah, so you’re the one to thank for the house elf pay laws,” he’d quipped as she’d gotten to that part of her work accomplishments, before he’d followed up, noting that it actually made him feel a bit better about having elves in the office. He’d done some reading himself about how house elves came to work for wizards and had been unsure if he was leaning into the “old ways” he was trying so hard to break out of by wanting to bring some into the company. But after the laws were passed, he felt employing them would be perfectly acceptable. Especially given that it would get them out of the manor, where Lucius had returned recently after his ten year sentence in Azkaban.

He’d talk about his time working with the potions master at his apprenticeship, and how they’d built a good relationship and would get lunch every couple of months for him to talk through some of the more general research he was doing or ideas he had, as well as the business side of what he was working through.

Hermione got the feeling he didn’t want to talk about his personal life or his past as he’d change the subject if his parents, free time, or Hogwarts were brought up. At this point her ever growing list of questions about him was staggering based on little comments or reactions he’d have when the subjects were broached. But she didn’t push it, appreciating the professional relationship they’d built to this point. She figured with all the time they’d still have to spend together the next year, perhaps eventually he’d open up. She just found herself intrigued by his story over the last twelve years and wanting to cross that line between colleagues and friends and fill in the details of what had happened for him to become the man she was getting to know. But that’s just the sort of thing that happened naturally after spending so much time together. 

He _was_ perfectly cordial with her now that they’d gotten over the hump of accepting their situation and trying to make the best of it. It wasn't... friendly per se, given that most of their conversation circled around work, but it wasn't _not_ friendly, either, as their conversation felt casual when it naturally veered into other subjects of interest with time. He’d earned points for some of the books he’d suggested to her for some light reading - potions and non-potions related, after finally acknowledging that he was an avid reader in his free time. Something that didn’t surprise her based on the wide breadth of knowledge he seemed to have on the subjects they discussed. And she felt like she’d likely earned some points in his eyes for keeping up and adding value in conversations that _did_ focus on the project, and perhaps her quick comebacks to his jibes that were sprinkled into conversation. She enjoyed the intellectual challenges he presented her, whether they were in knowledge or wit. 

Along with that, of course, came the little annoyances they had with each other. He was smug about his intellect and found pleasure in learning the ways to nonchalantly get on her nerves. And she’d correct him if he ever said anything incorrect which irritated him to no end, even if it wasn’t overly important. She also liked to try to bring up personal subjects he didn’t want or need to discuss in their down time, not that it mattered, as he had perfected the art of transitioning conversations long ago. The annoyances weren’t… a problem, though; more just a part of the stimulant that kept them both on their feet and alert to the challenge. It felt almost like a game that no one was keeping score of. 

Although things had gotten comfortable between them, however, there was still something unspoken in the silence they shared from time to time. Something heavy that lurked in the falter of a glance or the clearing of internal thoughts with the shake of a head. Something wedged between them that felt palpable, yet momentarily avoidable. Something that would need to be addressed, if ever the right opportunity presented itself.

She’d been doing some research on her own outside of the books he recommended, reading up on ingredients in her time at home and purchasing a few new potions books from Flourish & Blotts like _Potions for the Modern Cabinet,_ _Pick your Poison or Antidote,_ and _Building Blocks for Brewing: A Guide to Base Potions and Where To Go From There._ She’d even started making little suggestions as they were tinkering and asking what Draco himself had called ‘thought-provoking questions’, something he’d admit when the questions didn’t inherently allude to him being wrong about something. 

It was nearing the end of October now and Hermione and Draco had just stepped out of his potions lab in the early evening for her departure. They’d been making some changes to the Filtration Mixture, which was a potion used to filter out trigger words in normal conversation. For example, if someone was triggered by the word ‘war’ the brain would filter it out to something softer like ‘wizarding disagreement’, (wording based on that person’s own internal preferences), to get the same sentiment across without those trigger words. They’d researched earlier in the week and the results from the brew had been an improvement from the last version, though it still wasn’t perfect. After their lab sessions, he’d gotten into a habit of walking her to the reception area to see her out so today, like the other days, he walked at her side as they chatted about what more they could do to progress the potion even further.

As they reached the open reception area, Hermione turned to him as they stopped, one more thing on her mind before she left, “So I read something that I meant to mention to you earlier. I was doing some more research for the Dimmer Potion and I was thinking maybe instead of trying to decrease some of the interacting ingredients, what if we look to add something else to won’t interact with anything already in there, but will naturally mute the buzzing level? I’ve read about a few different ingredients that can result in sound changes, but I haven’t fully finished my research on their reactions with all of the other individual ingredients.”

“Hmm,” Draco said, his brows furrowing, “That’s not a bad idea. Do you remember what you were looking at?”

“I think it was Puffskein Hair, Shrivelfig, and—” she paused, closing her eyes for a moment to picture the page of the book, “—Staghorn. Those were the three I took note of that could impact volume. Just thought it might be something to look into.”

Draco nodded, “I know Puffskein Hair reacts with Ashwinder Egg, so that one won’t work, but I’ll look into the other two. Send an owl if you find anything in your research and I’ll do the same.”

“I will,” she said with a proud smile, glad he’d been interested, “See you next week.”

They’d had their normal handshake, something she looked forward to for some reason at the end of their days together. It felt like a sign of camaraderie and a confirmation that this uncomfortable scenario they’d been forced into was actually going quite well.

O-o-o-o-o-o-o

The following Thursday, Hermione had grown a little concerned as Susan hadn’t shown up at lunch time with the normal weekly update to review before her Friday visit. She’d thought that maybe it had just been a hectic day at Draconis Laboratories, or that something big had happened that Draco wanted to address in person. Either way, it made her a bit antsy as she continued to look at the clock on her wall in hopes that Susan would be by before the end of the day to ease her worries.

At six, as she was reading through the Budgeting Committee minutes from the night prior, Dennis knocked on her door, “Hermione, Draco is here to see you. I didn’t see a meeting on your schedule so I’ve got him waiting in the reception area.”

“Oh,” she said with surprise, “No problem, I wasn’t expecting him, but you can bring him back.”

Dennis dipped out of the doorway and she started piling papers around her desk to tidy it up a bit before Dennis returned with Draco in tow.

“Thanks, Dennis,” she said as he pulled the door shut and she turned to Draco, whose expression she couldn’t quite read, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Well we’ve had a development and I thought it was prudent that I should be the one to tell you about it,” he said seriously and she felt the nerves return.

“Of course, what happened?”

His unreadable expression broke into an uncharacteristic smile, “You were right,” he said simply, walking towards her desk and stopping in front of it, “With the muting suggestion on the Dimmer Potion. I did some research on the two ingredients you suggested and one of them — the Shrivelfig — has no reaction with any of the ingredients in our potion.”

“Really?” she said with excitement, internally taking in how stunning he looked in the moment with a genuine smile at his lips that reflected up through his eyes and a humble tone in his voice, “Have you brewed a batch yet?"

He nodded, “I did a test run yesterday after I read up on it a bit and tried it out on a cell with no issues. Took it last night before bed and it worked like a charm. No side effects at all. Layed down, took the potion and felt my thoughts just dim until they were replaced with a soft buzzing noise. I just took a five minute dose to try it out, full dosage will last about fifteen minutes, but it worked. I’m going to try a larger dosage over the weekend to make sure there are no side effects with the recommended amount and then I’m sending the updated mixture to the development labs to brew and update for the trials. I was originally thinking maybe volume varied by person so we’ve been testing it, as I’m sure you know, for a few months now since it’s perfectly safe, but the results we were seeing in the clinical testers were similar to what I was experiencing. So I’m eager to see the result changes.”

“Wow,” she breathed, “That’s _great_ , Draco.”

“Honestly I’ve never had a side effect wiped out so completely like that,” he said, looking impressed, “And that accomplishment is thanks to you.” Normally those words would have been difficult to say, but today, they weren’t because he _meant_ them. This was a big breakthrough for his company and he owed it to a suggestion from Hermione Granger. It had been an odd feeling when he’d realized that his gratitude for her help outweighed his normal need to be the one making the discoveries. All that mattered were the results and because of her, the results were perfect and he felt a layer of his guarded walls peel back so he could adequately express what that meant to him and his team. He felt… grateful that she’d put in the time to do research on her own and add the kind of value he had never expected from their arrangement. 

“Well, I mean I didn’t really _do_ anything. Just an idea I got from some research,” she tried to be modest.

“Something I hadn't considered, though. Anyway, I just wanted to personally thank you so I figured I’d bring over your weekly update for tomorrow. I know it’s a bit late, but I had to do some revisions today after that breakthrough.”

“That’s fine, I can still read through it tonight when I get home.”

“Bringing home work is healthy,” he grinned at her.

“Says the man who tested out a developmental potion before bed last night,” she clasped her hands on the table with her eyebrows raised.

Their eyes locked for a moment but before Draco could come up with a good retort, he was cut off by a knock at the door as it creaked open.

“Hey Hermione — Draco!”

They both turned to see Harry’s head in the doorway as he pushed it open.

“Hi Harry,” Hermione smiled at him, it wasn’t unusual for him to show up on a Thursday night.

“Potter,” Draco said, extending his hand as Harry walked into the room, shaking it like he was greeting an old friend.

“What are you doing over here? Thought you two already had to hang out on Fridays at the lab?”

“Normally, yes, but Hermione had suggested a tweak to one of the potions that ended up being the breakthrough we’ve been looking for, so I wanted to drop by and share the good news.”

“I’m sure you make quite a team,” Harry said with a twinkle in his eye that they both ignored, “I was stopping in to see if you wanted to grab a twilight hour drink, Hermione,” he said, turning to her, “It’s been a hell of a day in the Auror department and I could use a drink or two or so.”

“Sure,” Hermione said, looking down at the work on her desk she’d hoped to finish tonight and mentally accepting that she’d be bringing it home for the weekend with her lab visit tomorrow.

“Great. Would you care to join, Draco?” 

“Well I was actually supposed to grab dinner with Pansy tonight,” he said, sounding like he’d have liked to join.

“Why don’t you invite her along,” Harry shrugged, “If she’d be up for it.”

Draco thought about it for a moment before he nodded, “Yeah, alright, I don’t see why not, we could do that. If that’s alright with you that we crash your date, Hermione?”

Hermione rolled her eyes, he joked about Harry being her boyfriend all the time since they were single and neighbors. But she _had_ gotten used to hearing him say her name at this point, although something about it still sounded odd and gave her a bit of an unfamiliar tingle in her stomach. She was sure that was just because they’d gone so many years on a surname basis, “You should join. Call it a celebration for some development progress.”

“Alright, I’ll run it through as a company expense,” he winked at her.

“I certainly better not see any twilight hour expenses on the books,” she chided him.

“Just kidding, what kind of business do you think I’m running over there?” he said rhetorically, handing Hermione the folder he had in his hands containing the weekly update as she took it from him. He turned back to Harry, “I’ll Floo back to the lab and let Pansy know and we can meet you out in fifteen minutes or so. Where were you thinking?”

“Dragon Lair?” Harry asked, it was a popular young adult cocktail bar that had opened in Diagon Alley a few years ago. The food portions were small and fancy and the drinks vibrant and strong. It was often frequented by Ministry employees, and the auror teams, specifically, loved it for gatherings. It wasn’t his style, as he normally preferred a butterbeer at The Three Broomsticks, but he thought Draco and Pansy might enjoy it and he and Hermione had gone into Hogsmeade the last few weeks for something quiet and comfortable, so a change up sounded nice. 

“Pansy will be thrilled to make an appearance at the Lair,” Draco chuckled, “She does like her politicians. We’ll see you there.”

“See you there,” Harry said as Draco waved and started off down the hall for the Atrium Floos.

“Seems like your working relationship is going well,” Harry noted innocently.

“Yes, it’s going quite well,” she said, averting her eyes as she piled the weekly update on top of the other files she’d need to take with her and began loading them into her bag, “But it’s just business, Harry. I see that look in your eye and there’s nothing going on to give me that look for. That’s still Draco Malfoy and I still have too many unaddressed issues with that to consider it more than it is. Please don’t make it weird.”

“I just think you make a nice team,” he said, slipping his hands into his pocket, “Glad to see you getting along.”

“We’ve been perfectly cordial,” she said as she slung her bag over her shoulder and they headed for the door, “We mostly just talk business, though, so it’ll be interesting to all go out for a casual evening together.”

“It’ll be fun,” he grinned at her as they left the Minister’s office.

Fifteen minutes later, they were seated at a small table at The Dragon Lair, menus in hand as Draco and Pansy walked through the rows of tables to them in the dimly lit establishment that boasted gaudy crystal chandeliers and mahogany wood embellished molding around the walls.

Hermione greeted them both as they approached and Draco took the seat next to Hermione while Pansy pulled out the chair next to Harry.

“Pansy, you remember Potter, of course,” Draco said as a kind of reintroduction.

“Well if it isn’t The Boy Who Lived,” she said in a coy voice as she sat. 

“I usually prefer The Chosen One, but that works I guess,” Harry said with a wry smile.

“Oh and you’ve got a sense of humor, too, very good,” she looked at him for an extra second with intrigue before turning to the menu in her hand, “Seems you two have found a palette for the finer things if this is the kind of place you frequent these days.”

“I blame it on the Ministry,” Harry flipped his own menu to the drinks side, “Heated up leftovers and a glass of firewhiskey on the couch is more my speed. But we figured we had Slytherins to impress tonight."

“I have no one to impress,” Hermione said pointedly with a grin and a look over at Harry, who seemed to have found his sassy side tonight, “But I do enjoy a nice cocktail once in a while over a butterbeer.”

“What’ll you be having then?” Draco raised an eyebrow at her, clearly not believing that Hermione Granger enjoyed a nice alcoholic drink now and again.

She cocked her head at him, “I’ll be having a Fizzing Gin Buzz."

“Solid choice, Granger,” Pansy said, impressed, “Only classy witches drink gin.”

The server, dressed in silky robes with slicked back hair, came over and took their drink orders, Draco ordering a few small plates for the table as well.

“So what’s going on in the Auror department, Potter?” Draco asked as they were left on their own again.

“Just a whole slew of raids the last week with some more of the old Death Eaters getting out of Azkaban. We’re required to sweep the houses before they return.”

“I’m familiar,” Draco said dryly.

Harry ignored his comment, knowing Draco had an affinity for a bit of self-deprecating humor to acknowledge his uncomfortable past, something he’d honed in on from their short run-ins over the past few years, “And today we were given a mission for the weekend because we’ve gotten wind of an illegal portkey dealer that’s operating in the area. Not that it’s totally unusual to have to work on the weekend,” he turned to Hermione, “But I had those tickets to the Harpies game that Ginny brought for me and Ron last week.”

“Sounds like you’re going to have to see if Dean or Seamus want to take your ticket instead.”

“Dean’s on the mission with me so I’ll offer it to Seamus.”

“Are they both Aurors as well?” Pansy asked, “Just a department of Gryffindors protecting the wizarding world?”

Harry chuckled, something about Pansy’s suave sarcasm making him feel even more comfortable in their conversation, “No, Dean is, but Seamus is in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. We all lunch on Fridays. And there’s plenty of house diversity in the department, I believe Daphne Greengrass was one of yours, was she not? She’s an Auror now, transferred a couple years ago from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. She’s in our Friday lunch crew with a few others.”

“See, we’re _not_ all bad,” Pansy said to Draco who gave her a look, “Who knew!”

“Not all,” Harry replied, “There's a few of you that are tolerable.”

She turned back to him with a devilish grin, “Guess you'll have to try and decide if we’re some of them, then.”

Hermione and Draco shared a look of confusion at the banter going on between Harry and Pansy.

The drinks were levitated over by their server and conversation turned to what they had all ordered, moving into stories from outings passed and how these drinks had come to be their go-to orders. They’d talked about the restaurants that had opened around town, marketed towards the younger crowds that were growing up and buying up realty to diversify the old street. The conversation was that of a group of people trying to bridge the gap of twelve years of not knowing each other well and slip into something comfortable and more personal. Pansy had brought up the tickets from Ginny eventually and insinuated that free tickets from his girlfriend must be nice, which he’d quickly corrected her on, insisting that he was quite single. Harry and Hermione had then delved into a bit of dating the Weasleys and coming out of it with strong friendships and a close relationship to the whole family. They’d told some of the funnier stories about the Weasley gatherings as they both still attended Christmas and Molly still knit them both sweaters. 

Draco and Pansy had both been intrigued by big family holiday gatherings in a quaint home surrounded by laughing and games as they’d both grown up in very different environments and reminisced on holiday dinner parties with a bunch of old rich wizards and witches in elegant ballrooms and being scolded to not touch anything and not make a fuss. They both seemed to be able to make light of it now, but Hermione noticed a lack of spark behind Draco’s eyes, despite his nonchalant tone.

Conversation eventually turned to the lab around drink three, as Harry asked how their time working together was going. Hermione tried not to sound overly excited as she relayed that she was enjoying learning about brewing and development, and Draco brought up the suggestion she’d had for the Dimmer Potion and noted that although he wasn’t sure what to expect in the beginning, it had been an asset to have her around the office on Fridays.

“I don’t usually share my lab time with anyone,” he said with a crooked smile at Harry as he set his glass aside, “But it’s been... kind of nice to talk out theories and have another set of eyes doing some research. Not that you have to do that extra work,” he looked at Hermione with a shake of his head, “But I’m not going to pretend it hasn’t been helpful.”

“Well it’s just really interesting,” she defended, “I’ve read about loads of subjects in my spare time, but not until spending time in the lab did I really delve into developmental potions and herbology. The details are wonderfully intricate.”

Draco couldn’t help but notice the passion she spoke with. He wasn’t sure if it was passion for academics or passion for the project itself, but it was refreshing to have someone working closely with him that seemed as entwined with it as he was, though of course she only had to really dig into it once a week, “Well tomorrow we’re moving on to the Filtration Mixture again, now that you’ve solved the mystery of the Dimmer Potion, so I hope you’ve been reading up on your ingredient interactions since last week.”

“I actually have been,” she said with a bit too much fervor again, “You know I actually had an idea for this one because of something you mentioned—”

Harry laughed as she continued to go into whatever it was they’d been researching the week prior, turning to Pansy, “Seems they’re just going to keep talking about potions brewing, so you and I may be on our own.”

Pansy swirled her straw around her glass, her eyes flickering up at him, “Well that doesn’t sound so bad. How about you tell me more about _you_. What does grown up Harry Potter like to do with his spare time?”

“In my spare time… er,” Harry paused for a moment, grabbing the new glass that had levitated in front of him as their server summoned his empty glass. He was trying to remember the last time he had an extended amount of spare time but he’d been working so much lately, he didn’t feel he’d done anything that exciting, “I guess I like to fly around on the weekends, get out and enjoy the evening air.”

“You know I’ve rarely been on a broom,” Pansy said, with a hint of suggestivity, if Harry wasn’t mistaken.

“Well it sounds like someone should take you on a sightseeing ride over London,” he shrugged. He was not the most savvy of flirters, but unlike his schoolboy days, he could pick up on a hint at least and had no problem entertaining the idea of taking Pansy out as he’d been enjoying her company tonight and it gave him some confidence, even though he would consider her much too attractive for him as a general statement. 

“Great. Sunday, eight o’clock?”

And at least Pansy was straight forward so he didn’t have to agonize over how to jump that hurdle, “Sunday, eight o’clock.”

She looked at her watch, which was overly large and strikingly gold, “Well I should be getting back home since it’s a work night and all, care to walk me?”

“Sure,” he said casually, “The cobblestone streets are quite nice for a wander at night.”

“We’re going to go,” Pansy announced to the table, draining the last sip in her glass as Harry threw his back as well.

Hermione and Draco turned to them from their conversation that they hadn’t noticed had become private. They were both leaning towards each other, arms crossed on the table, and sat back instinctively at the realization.

“You’re leaving?” Draco asked with a small smile playing at his lips, “Together?”

“Only right to walk a lady home when she asks,” Harry said as though it addressed the scenario.

“See you tomorrow,” Pansy said with an almost unnoticeable wink as she and Harry stood and Harry placed a hand on the small of her back and gestured for her to lead the way.

“See you,” Hermione and Draco both responded with amusement as the two weaved their way back through the tables.

“Did they just…” Hermione started, not sure how to finish that sentence.

“Yep,” Draco nodded, “Pansy Parkinson and Harry Potter just left the bar together.”

“Well I didn’t see that one coming,” she said, blinking a few times to wrap her head around it.

“Honestly, me neither,” he agreed, “He’s not really Pansy’s type.”

“What _is_ Pansy’s type?”

“Politicians, financiers, Quidditch players…” he trailed off.

“Money and power?” Hermione quipped.

“Generally.”

“Well Harry is almost as low maintenance as they come besides the occasional outing here,” Hermione noted.

“I guess we’ll hear what happens tomorrow,” he finally pulled his eyes from the door and looked over at her, “Another drink?”

She met his gaze, considering his question for a moment as they were already three in and her head was contentedly foggy, “One more,” she nodded, enjoying being away from the office and out with someone who wasn’t Harry for a change, not that she didn’t appreciate his company. And perhaps with a few drinks in Draco, he’d open up a bit more about some of the things she’d been wondering. What was the drive behind his passion for the company? What caused the falling out with his father? Why did he keep his personal life such a mystery? She couldn’t pass up the opportunity to delve into deeper, unfiltered conversation with the man next to her.

Draco grinned as he put his hand in the air and within a few seconds their glasses were floating away from them to be replaced.

O-o-o-o-o-o-o

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kudos, y'all! Hope you're enjoying the story so far!!


	8. Here's To The Past

New drinks floated over to the table as Draco and Hermione settled in for drink number four at the Dragon Lair.

“So how did you and Potter end up as neighbors?” Draco inquired to break the ice of their now blatantly private outing. He felt like they could use this time to have some of the real talk that even his personal potions lab was a bit too much of a professional setting for. He wasn’t usually much of a sharer, but he was intrigued by Hermione at this point and interested in pushing the professional boundaries into a potential friendship, as odd as that still sounded in his own head. If he hadn’t been, though, he wouldn’t have come out for drinks tonight, but he couldn't deny his appreciation for the effort she’d put in to working with him and his team and how unnervingly easy she was to talk to as they discussed the project and researched together. It made him wonder if maybe there was a connection that persisted past the labs. Something neither of them could have fathomed coming into this.

“He asked me to help him look for a flat a few years ago… maybe five or six years ago when he got promoted to Lead Auror and had some extra money for a nicer place, which happened to be around the same time I moved over to the Minister’s Office. We found the apartment he’s in now and I just loved it. Location, layout, price, style, everything was right and Harry suggested I see if they had any other units available. Only other one was right next door and we both thought it would be kind of fun. Like being back at Hogwarts.”

Draco laughed, “I find it quite amusing. You should have just gotten a two bedroom apartment. They tend to be much bigger and you save money splitting costs.”

“Didn’t peg you for a discount shopper,” she raised her eyebrows.

“I certainly am not. I was just saying logically, more space for your money.”

“You wouldn’t think it was quite so logical if you saw how messy Harry’s apartment is,” she countered, “I’d go crazy. This works out nicely, we can knock on each others’ doors if we need something, but we have our own space and privacy.”

“Alright, that’s fair,” he nodded.

“And where do you live? Do you have another room off your potions lab with a bed and a stove?”

Draco accepted the jibe and looked at her evenly for a second before responding, “Pansy and I own connecting townhouses.”

She paused, a questioning look on her face.

“I’m joking. You thought it was weird, didn’t you? Now you see my reaction to your best-friend-sleepover-flats.”

Hermione couldn’t help but laugh, partially from that fourth drink, and partially because he had a point. But she and Harry had literally shared a tent for almost a year on their Horcrux hunt so it really didn’t seem that odd to live so close to each other.

“I do own a townhouse, though,” Draco said, “It’s actually walkable from here. I saw they were building up Diagon Alley to draw in the younger crowd and add some class so I thought it would be a good investment. A thought that has paid off if you look at the real estate here now. But anyway, it was part of what I used from my inheritance. Nothing over the top, just a nice two bedroom townhouse in the wizarding community of Wenlock Cove that’s just down the road.”

“Wenlock,” Hermione thought for a moment, “Named after Bridget Wenlock the famous Arithmancer?”

His lip curled up, “Yes, that’s exactly right. You read too much, you know.”

“No such thing,” she waved him off, feeling a bit looser than normal, “Did you buy it after Durmstrang?”

Draco shook his head, “Not directly after, no, I moved back to the uh,” he cleared his throat to find the courage to finish the sentence, “To the manor for a couple of years to look after my mother while I started my apprenticeship.”

Hermione felt a shiver run down her spine at the mention of the manor but tried not to react, “Was she sick?” she asked quietly, trying to make sense of how he’d phrased it. 

“No, just… just not well,” he tried to push through the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach without turning off his emotions. Being open and vulnerable didn’t come naturally to him but it felt… necessary right now, “That was part of what gave me the idea for some of the potions in this development line. She’s doing better now, but with me at Durmstrang and my father in Azkaban, she had a rough year and just needed someone there with her to get back on her feet and find a routine again. I stayed two or three years before I bought the townhouse. It drove me a bit mad being back there. That’s around the same time I swore off the inheritance from my father, accepted what my grandparents left me and started planning for the potions lab and researching where I could donate the rest of the money.”

Hermione just nodded, this is what she’d been hoping for, having an open conversation that answered some of her questions, but now that she was in it, she wasn’t entirely sure how to respond. There was some inner conflict on empathizing with the guilt and anger he obviously felt about his past because of how _she_ felt about his past. 

Draco looked up from his drink, which he’d been staring into the last minute as he talked, knowing if he continued down the path of where this conversation was leading, he’d be shifting the tone from casual to something much more serious, but it felt like now that it had been brought up, it was only right to address it for what it was, “I don’t like to talk about the war or my family,” he stated bluntly, “But I find it very difficult not to let it out to you because I think some part of me needs you to know how much regret I feel. And I don’t want sympathy or comfort because I don’t deserve it. I just simply want you to know.” 

She opened her mouth, racking her foggy brain for a reply, “Okay,” she finally said, “I see that you mean what you say.”

“And I’m sorry,” his eyes were burning into hers now that they’d locked and his words held an intensity behind them, “I’m sorry for everything I contributed to and how it impacted you. I try very hard to put thoughts of my past out of my head while I’m at work so I can get through the day to day and focus on doing some good in this world to make up for my mistakes, but I know it doesn’t take it all away and it doesn’t feel fair not to address this with you. And I’m sorry I didn’t do it sooner.” 

“It’s not the easiest subject to broach,” she said, quite interested for him to keep talking. Something about hearing an apology felt freeing. Like maybe it was part of what kept her from empathizing, because she didn’t feel he was taking responsibility for the terrible things he did; that he was brushing them under the rug and trying to walk away from it to better himself without acknowledging that some people still dealt with the brunt of his early decisions.

“Maybe you don’t want to have this conversation,” he backpedaled, “We don’t have to, I’m sure you’d rather just enjoy a nice night out.”

“Maybe I _don’t_ want to,” she allowed, “But maybe we need to before you and I can move forward feeling like we’ve acknowledged our past. I’ve enjoyed working together and honestly tonight has been fun, but maybe we can’t break the line to any kind of friendship without having honest conversation.”

He nodded thoughtfully, it was exactly what he’d been thinking and was glad to hear they were on the same page. With her encouragement and the words rolling from his tongue now, he knew there wasn’t much he could do to reel it back in until he’d said everything on his mind; everything he’d held in since they’d begun working together. It was almost impossible to look at her in the beginning, knowing the things that had happened to her and her friends and knowing he’d been a part of that. But talking about the trauma you’d caused someone didn’t quite fit into professional small talk so he’d buried those thoughts whenever they came up. But here, with half of his fourth drink sitting in front of him, six weeks of riding the line of professional colleagues and maybe-almost-friends, the words had found their opportunity to break free. And so, he took a few extra seconds to look into the eyes of the girl he’d spent seven years tormenting, (which had led to twelve years of lamenting) to think about what it was he wanted to say, and he dove back into it.

“I grew up being taught that muggleborns were of lesser value than purebloods and I never challenged that belief. Because of it, because of the choices I made and things I accepted, I was horrible to you. You had to listen to me call you terrible things for years and there’s nothing I can ever do to take that back, but I am more sorry than I can convey in words. You never deserved that.”

“I appreciate hearing you say that,” she said sincerely, unsure why she was so incapable of pulling her eyes from his.

“I stopped believing all of it once they made me one of them and I saw it for what it was. Once I was faced with what that life meant — being a murderer, torturing people, putting your life above others for the sake of blood purity… it was bullshit. The minute I stepped in front of someone the Dark Lord had declared lesser than and was told to do harm to them I just… I didn’t see what could be so different between that person and myself. In the beginning I looked at the Death Eaters as _power_ and I won’t hide the fact that I was interested. But in that moment where I was faced with the reality of it, it was just me looking at another human and it all clicked. I wasn’t powerful, I was a _monster_. And I panicked. I couldn't do what he wanted me to and I paid for that. And then I spent the rest of my time in the Death Eaters trying to figure out how to get out without being killed or having to do something irreversible.”

“Was Dumbledore the first?” she asked numbly.

“Not the first time he’d told me to torture someone,” Draco finally pulled his eyes away to focus on his drink again while he found the nerve to continue after her mention of Dumbledore. It made him sick to his stomach, “It was just some Ministry worker he brought to the Manor before the beginning of sixth year. They’d given me my Mark and the next thing I was supposed to do in my initiation was perform the Cruciatus curse. I didn't want to do it, I remember my hand was shaking, my mouth was bone dry and my voice didn't feel like my own, but I said the incantation like I knew I was supposed to anyway. The moment their body began to respond and the first notes of their scream hit my ears, I was done. I lifted it immediately, this light-headed feeling overtaking me at what I'd just done and even though I tried to cast it again, with everyone still staring at me, I couldn't. It wasn't working; I had no intention behind the words. You have to want to cause pain and I didn't anymore. One look at the anguish it caused that wizard and I knew I'd made the biggest mistake of my life. They all jeered at me and my father begged him to let me take some time to get stronger and learn my role; That he would work with me to be what they wanted me to be. The Dark Lord laughed at him and told him we were all weak. That’s when he gave me the task to kill Dumbledore and then he murdered the Ministry worker right there.”

“Did you ever have to… you know, hurt someone? After that?”

“Of course I did,” he shook his head with a heavy sigh, “I knew he’d kill me if I couldn’t prove some kind of worth to him. But I refused to kill anyone. He kept trying to make me, and I refused every time. And I paid for it every time. The anger of my situation is what drove my motivation sixth year to just get what I was supposed to do over and done with. It was an immature reaction, but I was so lost it was like a default mode. I couldn't just walk away and the longer I took on my task, the more my family felt the brunt of The Dark Lord's wrath. So I was just fueled by anger and anxiety.”

“So the jolts I feel… you feel them too,” it was a statement, not a question, as she inferred what ‘paid for it’ meant. He’d alluded to it, of course, as they’d discussed the Cruci-Calm Tonic, but it felt necessary to have that out in the open.

He nodded without responding.

“Did you tell your parents you wanted out?”

“Yes,” he enunciated, his teeth grinding as he bit down the anger that flared up thinking back on it, “My father made me pay for that sentiment as well and I never mentioned it again. My mother wanted to help, but she couldn't. She loved my father and she loved me, but part of her was afraid of him and she wouldn’t challenge him.”

“I always thought your mother was a bit haughty, the thought of her bending to Lucius’ will seems off.”

Draco gave a dark laugh, “She was always incredibly strong until those last few years when the Dark Lord returned. My father’s attitude changed towards everything when he came back and I think my mother realized he’d never loved her like he loved power. It broke her. She was better, by the time I left the manor, after the war and after I spent some time working with her on moving past it all. But with Lucius back the last few years, I see her falling into her submissive ways again. Lucius and I don’t talk unless we’re situationally forced to. I gave him my final words before he went to Azkaban and I was done with him. He only walked away the night of the Battle because he saw weakness in the Dark Lord when Potter came back to life again. It wasn’t for us or for a change of heart, it was because he finally realized the Dark Lord could lose and he wanted to save his own skin. My mother still hasn’t chosen a side - mine or his - so she plays this game of trying to see me every few months and catch up like everything is unicorns and rainbows, and then she goes back to him. It’s hard to watch, but it’s hard to think about losing her completely as well.”

“I’m sorry,” she said softly, starting to understand some portion of what went on in his head.

“Don’t be. I don’t deserve your pity. Like I said, I just feel I need to explain.”

“So what do you believe now? Now that you’ve distanced yourself from your father and had the time to do your own learning and form your own beliefs.”

“That you and I are no different. That no human is worth anything more than the next. We’ve all got a purpose and value and everything I believed then was wrong. I did a lot of reading on the history of these different ideologies and tried to incorporate some literature on muggle contributions and impacts on Wizarding society, that kind of stuff. We’re all interconnected and I was a brainwashed git.”

There was conviction in his statement and she nodded, “That’s a good step.”

“I wish I could take away a lot of the pain that you all have from what happened in the war, and that’s the reason I started my company. I just want to be able to undo _something_ even if I can’t change anything.”

“I think it’s clear you’re doing everything you can to be a better person on your own volition,” she said, “It sounds like you have remorse for what you were a part of while owning your responsibility in it. That’s all you can do, Draco. I accept your apology.” There was a rawness in everything he was saying that hit her hard. Nothing would ever take back what he’d done, or who he’d been in his younger years, but he wasn’t just looking to move past it so he could live his life, he was looking for a way to contribute to a better life for everyone that was involved. He’d dedicated his life to doing something that would ease some of the pain he’d caused.

“I think it’s your turn,” he said hesitantly, “What would you like to say to me? About what you still think about in terms of our past that you’ve kept in since we started working together, or just anything you feel needs to be said.”

She considered him for a moment, teetering between feeling content from the apology she’d gotten and wanting to put it all on the table. But like they’d already acknowledged, the only way forward was through honesty, “I spent a really long time not wanting to hear an apology from you and thinking it wouldn’t matter,” she finally said, “I was so angry with you for so long for being on their side during it all. For the things you said to me at Hogwarts. For the manor and the room of requirement. I just wanted to put any acknowledgement of you in the past and move on with my life.”

He tried not to wince at her words that cut through him like a knife. It was everything he assumed she felt and he deserved to hear it.

“But I can see you’ve grown from the boy you were then. I can see the resolution in your statement that you don’t hold those beliefs anymore. And I see the remorse you have over knowing what you were a part of. It may not change what happened, but honestly, it does lift some of the weight I held over it,” she watched as he nodded, keeping eye contact to show respect for what she was saying, “And with time, the anger I felt over what happened during the war lessened as I came to terms with where I truly place my blame; and it wasn’t on you. It was on Bellatrix and Crabbe for the manor and the room of requirement. I know you wish you’d done something then, and I wish you had too, but I know in the end, those weren’t fully decisions you made, they were positions you were put in by others and they were difficult positions; to defy your family and your friends to switch your allegiance and help someone you’d only ever seen as your enemy. I can appreciate the choice you were faced with even if I don’t agree with your handling of it.”

“I shouldn’t have just stood there, at the manor,” the words tumbled from his mouth as his guilt at the things he’d done bubbled underneath the surface, “It’s the biggest regret I have from all of it. It’s one of those moments I’m not sure I’ll ever get out of my head and I know for you it must be a thousand times worse.”

“She’d have killed you,” Hermione said simply, “I know that. You know that. I know why you didn’t act, and you and I wouldn’t be sitting here having this conversation if you had. But it still didn’t make it easier to reconcile that you were there. I’ve had time now to do that and I think there’s a part of me that’s relieved and… maybe a bit vindicated to see the changes you made in yourself because I did see the remorse then, after it all, and I’d hoped it would drive you to want to be better.”

“I’m sorry,” the words were barely a whisper as he forced them out and there was a wall behind his eyes that was crumbling, a look of sheer pain coming through as he accepted responsibility for the things she held.

“I know,” she responded quietly, feeling like she may break at any moment as she divulged some of the deepest scars she’d buried down from the war, but trying to stay strong on the outside. This moment was for them to vocalize their past and push through the uncomfortableness so they could turn to a fresh page, she wasn’t quite ready to let her vulnerability take over, however, though she was sure she’d feel it all when she got home later.

They looked at each other for another few seconds without speaking. Hermione was drawing a long breath in through her nose, as Draco tried to find the right response, feeling like she’d finished what she had to say.

“I’m truly sorry,” he enunciated each word in a stronger voice, putting all the sincerity he could into the statement, “I’m actively trying to be better and I hope one day I can at least make up for some small portion of the pain I caused you.”

“Thank you,” she said, her lip pulling up as she reached her hand over to cover his, squeezing it lightly, unsure if it was the alcohol or the tremendous weight that felt like it was loosening its grip that made her do it, “The world only becomes a better place when people can recognize the mistakes they’ve made and put in the work to change themselves. It’s clear you’re doing that. I know you have a lot of regret and it seems like it eats at you, but I think you should try to remember how far you’ve come because I can see it.”

Draco froze at the physical gesture, certainly not used to being comforted and unsure that it was deserved in the current moment, “I don’t want you to feel bad for me,” he said, perhaps a bit more harshly than he meant to.

“It’s just compassion, Draco,” she gave a small laugh at his comment, “You’ve apologized, I’ve said what I needed to say and no matter what the situation, there’s always room for compassion,” she pulled her hand back, grabbing her glass for another sip, “Is there anything else _you_ wanted to say?”

He considered her prompt before surprising himself with a nod, “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” she said curiously.

“What made you reconsider my request? You were so adamant about denying it, and me, respectively.”

She realized she’d subconsciously been expecting the question because she already had her answer on her tongue, “Two things, actually. The first was that you completely caught me off guard with your visit. You had passion and fire and you were… angry with me for not letting your funding move forward and it made me want to know why; why the project was important and why I had this feeling that I was wrong when I went into it feeling very strongly that I was doing the right thing. And the second, was a conversation I had with Harry after. I’d never asked him about your outing after your trial,” she watched as an unreadable look of acknowledgment crossed his features, “He’d wanted Ron and I to come so we could all make peace, but Ron and I weren’t ready. I never asked him about it for the same reason, I just wasn’t ready to hear your side. So I finally brought it up after our meeting and what he had to say solidified what I’d seen in you during our short discussion. And it made me want to give you a chance.”

“People deal with things in their own time,” he said offhandedly, “Makes a bit more sense now. I wasn’t sure even after I’d left if it had been enough for you to really reconsider and I felt like there was more when you approved our request.”

“You can thank Harry. I was on the fence. I think I was leaning towards approving it, but he solidified it for you.”

“I’ll add it to the list of things to thank him for,” he gave a huff of a laugh.

“I see all the things he’d told me, by the way. About how you’ve changed and how there's a deeper side to understanding you and your past.”

“Potter is a good bloke,” Draco said decisively, “I think we all know where I’d be if it weren’t for him. And the fact that he pulled me aside to have that conversation even after saving my skin showed the kind of character I’ve rarely seen in another person. I never forgot that. Just like I won’t forget the opportunity you’re giving my company right now.”

“After spending the time together that we have, I understand why he believed in you.”

“I think that’s a bit too nice of you to say, but thank you.”

“Anything else we need to talk about?”

He shook his head, “No, that’s all I can think of for now.”

“Okay,” she gave a definitive nod, “I’m glad we had a chance to acknowledge that and now it’s on the table and we can talk about it if we need to in the future, or we can leave it there to just be a stepping stone to whatever professional relationship or friendship is ahead.”

He returned her definitive nod, still unsure what to say next to transition from this.

“Can I get you both anything else?” the waiter had returned and both heads turned and blinked a few times as if they’d forgotten they were in public.

“No, we’re all set, just the check,” Draco said after a slight pause, his normal voice feeling foreign to him in the moment. The server walked away and Draco turned back to her, “I am looking forward to continuing to work together. I’m glad it was you that ended up overseeing this project.” He certainly wasn’t one for heartfelt words, or open emotions in general, but he was still rolling off of the conversation they’d just had and wanted to ensure she knew where he stood.

“I am too,” she said, her quirked lip pulling up into a real smile as a check hovered over to the table and Draco grabbed it, pulling a few galleons from his pocket and sticking them on top of the check on the table, “You’re not paying for drinks,” she said as she watched him, grabbing for her bag that was sitting at her side.

“Too late, I just did. If it makes you feel better, I paid for Pansy and Potter as well. If you take coins out, I will hide them in your briefcase tomorrow.”

She sighed, looking at him warily, “Fine. Would you like to walk me home for some fresh air and normal conversation?”

“As Potter said, it’s only right to walk a lady home if she requests it.”

They both chuckled as they slid out of their seats, Hermione realizing as she stood just how dizzy she felt. It was certainly time to leave.

She lived about a mile away which gave them plenty of time to slip back into casual conversation, hypothesizing on what Pansy and Harry were doing. Draco guessed she’d pulled him inside and he’d be staying the night and Hermione disagreed, noting that Harry wasn’t one to go in for the kiss on a first date and would likely have just walked her home and then returned to his own home where he’d realize he was supposed to kiss her and dwell on it for a bit before bed.

By the time they’d reached her flat, a one bedroom with outside stairs that lead directly to her door, things felt as normal as they could, given the intense conversation they’d had earlier, and they paused outside.

“I’m glad you came out tonight,” Hermione said sincerely, “I think we needed to do this.”

“I’m glad I did too,” he gave her a crooked smile as she pulled out her wand to unlock her door.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she started walking up the steps before pausing again and turning back to him, “Thanks for caring enough to have that conversation. You didn’t have to relive it and share that with me. I hope you know I appreciate the courage that took.”

_Having courage to admit you were a coward; oh the irony,_ he thought before going with a much less self-deprecating, “Thanks for being willing to listen," as she gave him a small smile before she started walking again, “And also for not punching me in the face again. That’s probably more what I deserved.”

“It’s always a possibility,” she said in an airy voice without looking back, “I’ve done it once, I can do it again if you get too full of yourself.”

He huffed another laugh out, “Goodnight Granger.”

She tapped her wand on the door with an _Alohamora_ as it clicked from the inside, turning her head back to him one last time, “Night Draco.”

O-o-o-o-o-o-o

Once beyond the barrier of her door, she leaned back against it with a deep breath in, and then out, recognizing the signs that her brain was unlocking the compartment she’d solidly closed near the end of their conversation. Her flat was piercingly still as she stared into the darkness across the room, thoughts of the events that had been brought up flooding back; her mind replaying the things that had been said. She could feel tears starting to form behind her eyes, but she’d known that it was coming. It always did after talking about the war. She’d held it in admirably through their conversation, wanting to share her perspective and have a meaningful step forward in their relationship without adding additional guilt to Draco’s conscience of seeing the extent of her pain. It simply wasn’t the conversation for that. But it was begging for release now that she was alone again. 

Her throat felt tight and she swallowed hard, a tear falling from the corner of her eye as they opened, staring blankly across the room. Memories of Bellatrix standing above her in the Manor, Draco's face, blurry, but defined in her peripherals flashed into her head. The image was replaced by the crackle of fire lapping at her ankles as she flew through the room of requirement, and she swore she could almost feel the heat around her in the moment. More tears came as the memory of Harry’s limp body in Hagrid’s arms came into view. And then sadness filled her as she pictured looking back at Draco, who was standing, hidden behind a wall of students, being beckoned forward by his parents. She still couldn’t remove the look from her head of the indecision on his face as he hesitated; agony evident in that first step he took to go to his mother. He couldn’t hide when they’d so blatantly called him out. He couldn’t stay there when his mother was begging him to be at her side. It was the hesitation in that moment that led her to want to see him redeem himself one day. 

Dobby’s body lying in Harry’s arms then took over the scene as her heart pulled tighter, that memory then replaced with Fred, still, lying on the stretcher in the Great Hall as Ron crumbled to the ground, Tonks and Lupin visible down the line of victims. She remembered the feeling of standing behind her parents in their living room and raising her wand, erasing herself from their memories; sending them away and walking out of their lives unsure if she’d ever see them again.

A jolt coursed through her body like an electric shock that fit so cleanly with the memories flooding her head and she gasped, sliding her back down the door until she was seated on the floor where a sob escaped her lips, her arm tingling as another reminder of the blade carving into her skin. What a nice time it would have been to have a completed Dimmer Potion to shut it all out. She had an odd thought in that moment of wishing Draco hadn’t left; that he’d been there in this moment she’d wanted to hide from him. That he’d been able to comfort her or… or hold her. She’d felt stronger around him, talking through the things she carried with her; holding the power of her story and her feelings. But instead, she sat there alone, letting the tears run their course until they’d slowly subsided some time later and she’d picked herself up from the floor and made it into bed. 

There was another feeling of relief as she blinked a few times. She didn’t often let those feelings or thoughts linger long enough to fully register them to bring her to this place, but it was healthy to acknowledge sometimes. It was healthy to let it out after bottling it up for so long to feel that sense of release. After all, as a very wise man once said, ‘ _To suffer is as human as to breathe’_.

O-o-o-o-o-o-o

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so very very much for the reviews & kudos!! Next chapter should be up on Sunday!


	9. Broken Barriers

Hermione had felt a weight lift from her shoulders following the emotional night of their big talk and her subsequent breakdown. It was like the things she’d kept inside had been freed to a degree, and her comfort level around Draco grew exponentially, feeling that he’d played a big part in that since he’d initiated the conversation that was inevitable. She could tell he felt more at ease as well with everything out in the open; feeling that he’d finally spoken the apology that had needed to reach her ears, and they spent the next few weeks continuing to fall into a sort of friendship. Draco would stop by at lunchtime on Thursdays with the weekly update and they’d go to lunch with Harry and Pansy, who could barely keep their hands off each other. 

Hermione had never seen Harry look quite so much like a lovestruck schoolboy as he did with Pansy, who seemed to be swooning just as hard over him. Draco had ended up being correct about the outcome of their evening that first night after The Dragon Lair, as Hermione had found out the next morning walking out her door to leave for work while he was walking up his stairs in the same clothes as the evening prior. He’d given her a sheepish grin and said he was glad they’d invited the Slytherins out before he’d skipped up the stairs and into his flat, whistling, if she hadn’t been mistaken.

Their Thursday lunches were sometimes accompanied by a few other coworkers from one of their offices. Blaise quite enjoyed crashing their lunches, while Theo and Adrien were more of the work-through-lunch type, and Daphne and Susan were regulars. It was a nice break and something she wasn’t totally used to, as apart from her intermittent outings with Harry and Ron, she tended to eat in her office most days. Speaking of Ron, he had still not been willing to cross the line of hanging out with Draco and would make up an excuse each week for why he couldn’t join, as Hannah kept encouraging him to go so he could make a more informed judgment on his character. 

Hermione understood to a degree, knowing that until this project had landed on her desk, she’d had a similar sentiment to Ron. But she thought if he sat down with him and saw how he’d changed, perhaps also heard an apology, maybe he’d be a bit more willing to give him a second chance. And maybe not, she also understood that not everyone would be able to find the compassion it took to forgive and move past some of the things that had happened, no matter how much he’d changed. He was more than entitled to his feelings on the situation, though she did hope he’d try, now that she and Harry had vouched for Draco. 

But nevertheless, Hannah and Ron joined her and Harry for dinner one weekend, when Harry wasn’t spending the evening with Pansy, so they could see Finn. The newly-six-year-old talked their ears off about his new toy broom and all the cool tricks he could do as they listened intently to his play by play of each one. Hannah had suggested to Harry that he bring Pansy next time so they could get to know her and Ron had looked nonplused, to say the least, but hadn’t objected and Harry had agreed that he’d love to bring her around before he brought up a trip they had planned before the holidays.

Hermione’s first quarterly update was coming up at the Ministry in three week’s time at the end of November and she felt decently confident that the progress shown would reinstill confidence in the research. She wished there had been something a little bigger, but there was certainly tangible progress even without.

It was late on Friday, even later than normal, but they were currently working on the Alarm Serum, a potion designed to internally alert the user to specific times of the day like an alarm clock to keep on a routine, and the brew time was a staggering four hours. They’d started at four, after the normal presentation on updates to the other mixtures he’d tinkered with during the week, and he’d warned her she was in for a late night if she wanted to be a part of this one. Too worried about missing something exciting, she hadn’t hesitated in deciding to stay.

Once the potion was ready to sit and brew, needing only to be stirred on an hourly basis, they’d talked through a few items to note in her quarterly update and then she’d pulled out some of her own Ministry work for a couple of the hours while he read. After his last stir signifying an hour left, he’d set the ladle down but hadn’t reopened his book, clearly bored from his reading, and mentioned he’d heard Pansy and Harry were planning their first weekend getaway to visit the wizarding town of Montmartre in Paris, which had sparked a conversation about muggle Paris vs. Wizarding Paris. He didn't know much of anything about the muggle city and was affronted by the idea that Hermione found it more magical than Montmartre.

“In a different way, obviously,” she’d elaborated, “Not literally magical, just all the architecture and the ambiance, it’s a _romantic_ city. Magical in that sense.” 

“I’m sure it’s adequate, but there is nowhere more magical than Montmartre and I will stand by that statement.”

“And I think Montmartre is lovely but there is no feeling like staring up at the Eiffel tower when it’s all lit up, in awe of a meticulously crafted structure that makes you remember that you are blissfully small in a big wide world.”

Draco’s lip curled up as he looked at her, “That was quite well spoken so I’ll let you keep your sentiment on it while respectfully disagreeing.”

“I’ll count that as a win.”

“So you’ve been there with a boyfriend?” he asked, “You called it romantic.”

“Oh, just the city itself is romantic, I wasn’t speaking from personal romantic experience,” she said as her cheeks got warm. 

Something about that response contented him, though he still found it amusing that she got a little flushed when they talked about their love lives. They were adults after all, and becoming decent friends, “Sounds like you’ll have to relay how romantic Paris is to your next boyfriend then, so you can experience both the romantic ambiance and some real romance.”

She knew he enjoyed when she got flustered and gave him a perturbed look, “I guess I’ll have to.”

“Oh come on, it’s just funny when you get embarrassed like that. It’s a perfectly normal conversation between two adults.”

“We’re on the clock right now,” she looked pointedly back at him, “You can ask me about my romantic life at lunch. When we’re already inundated with Harry and Pansy kissing like they’re in private.”

He chuckled, “Technically it’s seven-thirty and in any normal job, we would not be on the clock right now so I just don’t think it’s a big deal. We’re friends, right? Friends talk about romance.”

She gave a frustrated sigh, but had been very pleased to be bridging friend territory as she truly enjoyed the intellectual stimulation he offered and was starting to come around to his sense of humor, so she gave in, “Fine, Draco, what would you like to know about my romantic life?”

He stared back at her with a deepening grin, “Really? You’re going to allow this?”

“Like you said, it’s seven-thirty and we could as easily be at dinner.”

“Alright, when was your last relationship?”

“Oh gosh, six years ago?” she said unsurely.

“Anyone I would know?”

She looked at him an extra minute again before responding, “Viktor,” she sighed, “We’ve been friends ever since fourth year and were pen pals for years before he suggested I come out to Bulgaria and spend some time with him probably about six years ago. We dated for half a year or so but international portkeys are a hassle and his Quidditch schedule was a nightmare so it just didn’t work out. Wonderful guy.”

“No shit,” Draco looked impressed, “Your last boyfriend was an international Quidditch star, I’m sure that doesn’t intimidate any prospects.”

“Why, does it intimidate _you_?” she asked jokingly before realizing the implication of her own jibe.

“Am I a prospect now?” he raised his eyebrows, his lips in a thin, playful smile.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” she rolled her eyes at him, “I’m just saying I think to any confident man, it shouldn’t matter who I’ve dated.”

“So that was six years ago,” Draco went back to the details, “Nothing since then?”

“I mean I’ve gone on dates here and there,” she said offhandedly, “But no, nothing serious.”

“Who was the last date?” He asked, seeing what more information he’d get out of her tonight.

She fiddled with her pen for a moment before another sigh, “Roger Davies. Ravenclaw, a few years above us at Hogwarts.”

“Ravenclaw chaser and captain, I remember. You know for someone who doesn’t like quidditch, you sure like quidditch players.”

“Don’t be an ass, Draco.”

He smirked at her retort, accepting that he’d hit his limit on her patience before looking over at the potion brewing beside him.

“And you?” she prodded, annoyed that he was doing that thing again where he asked her something personal without sharing in return.

“Dated here and there as well,” he gave her a bit of a telling grin that likely meant he wasn’t a ‘relationship guy’ and that ‘dated here and there’ meant purely sexual encounters.

“Classy,” she commented, feeling somehow more annoyed with the response, like she’d been hoping for something else, though she didn’t know why she’d really care.

He shrugged, “Well I’ve been busy enough the last year or so that I haven’t even really had time for the ‘here and there’ anyway. Sometimes you need to set those things aside to focus on what needs to get done. These potions are my priority.”

“I mean I certainly understand,” Hermione said, relaxing a little at his follow-up.

“Come over here and take a look at this,” he gestured her over as he looked back at the potion again.

She got up from her chair and stepped in front of the cauldron, “What are we looking at?”

“So remember before how the potion was sort of an aqua blue when we brewed last week?”

“Mmhmm,” she said, noticing the color change now that he’d pointed it out.

“More of an indigo blue now,” he said, leaning over the cauldron a bit more to inspect it as she did the same.

She could feel his body close to hers, like he was maybe a step back and to the side, but with them both hovering to get a better look at the potion, she felt if she moved the slightest bit, she could touch him. Her heart started to beat a little faster at the realization even as he continued pointing out some attributes that had changed.

“-And of course you can see the consistency is a bit more smooth than the last version-”

She didn’t think they’d ever been this close before and although she could tell he was truly just trying to point out some exciting changes - changes that were signs of an improved version of the potion - she couldn't help but notice the intimacy of their work environment. Perhaps her thoughts had been instigated by the conversation on romance that had just taken place, but the dim lighting and enclosed, private space felt even more intimate hovered over a cauldron together. Fumes permeated the air and it was filling her senses, the humidity hanging heavily between them, and it was warm; much warmer than she’d registered it being earlier. Perhaps she just hadn’t noticed. At that moment, she wondered if she was breathing faster and if he could hear it.

“Hermione?” he said, breaking her from her thoughts.

“Hm?” 

He chuckled, “You alright? I just asked if you remembered what we talked about last week with the consistency changes.”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” she cleared her throat a little, noticing her mouth was a bit dry, “Consistency changes in the potion are a sign of more consistent effects so no vial will be more potent than another.”

“Right,” he said proudly, “And you can just tell this one is perfectly smooth. I think tweaking the amount of Mallowsweet was the right call.”

“Mhm,” she nodded, trying to work through her inner thoughts while also paying attention. She found it odd, but she didn’t… mind… their closeness. She felt foggy and was finding it hard to concentrate, but it wasn’t an unpleasant feeling.

“Here,” he put his hands on her arms and moved her a foot to the left, where he had just been standing and moved to take her place, “I think if you stand there you can see the colors emulating a bit more from the light hitting it at that angle. We've got the indigo color that’s at the surface, and then that hue of lilac as it reflects from the light. That’s much more the color I was expecting from this potion. Do you see the lilac?”

“Mhm,” she nodded again, acknowledging the lilac he was trying to show her in the back of her mind as she tried to will away the goosebumps that had popped up down her arms as he’d ushered her into his spot; His hands warming the fabric against her skin in the most enticing way. _Where in Merlin's name was her head right now?!_

He turned from the cauldron to grab a couple of vials and she took a deep, inconspicuous breath, letting it out slowly and trying to focus her thoughts. That was nothing. That was a simple inspection of a potion at a close distance. He was clearly just excited about the progress and hadn’t realized how close they were. Why had she gotten so distracted by it?

“Do you want to ladle some into these and I’ll grab a cell?” he handed her two vials.

“Of course,” she said, her head clearing a bit with some distance as she took it and uncorked it.

Draco walked over to the locked cabinet above the sink in the corner where a large jar of hovering cells sat. He grabbed it down from the shelf and removed the lid, levitating one from its place in the jar to direct to the petri dish next to the cauldron before preparing some of his testing tools as he let his mind wander back a few minutes now that they were both busy with their own tasks. He’d noticed how close they were as well after a moment standing over the cauldron, but had enjoyed the feeling a bit too much to take a step back. It had been an odd sensation to feel her body close to his, close enough to almost feel the heat from her, and surely close enough to notice the flush that had returned to her neck and additional breathiness in her voice with her distracted responses.

It hadn’t been intentional, to put himself so close to her, he had genuinely just wanted to point out the progress they’d made, but he’d felt a magnetic pull of sorts in that moment that he hadn’t expected. One that caused him to stay maybe a few seconds longer than he should have, and find a reason to continue pointing out little things in the potion that may or may not matter. He felt that perhaps he’d like to get close to her again, but also didn’t want to push their line of friendship into something inappropriate. He respected her too much to want her to feel uncomfortable, but her reaction to his presence and the spark he’d felt made it very difficult not to want to explore it… if the opportunity arose to be professionally close again in the lab, or maybe a friendly hug at the end of a lunch outing. Not that he was a hugger. But something like that.

“Here you go,” she handed him the vial with a small smile as their eyes locked and he grinned back, taking it from her.

“Thanks.” 

He poured the measured dosage of potion over the cell and they watched, noting the reactions down on their respective parchment before he would take the potion to monitor the results and side effects.

O-o-o-o-o-o-o

Hermione had returned home that evening with a plethora of unresolved feelings on the events that had transpired. She couldn't deny that what she’d felt inspecting the cauldron with Draco was attraction. There were no two ways about it. They’d stumbled past their uncomfortable beginnings to form a working relationship, traversed uneasy conversation to bridge into friendship, and now, somehow, she’d developed an attraction for the man she’d once loathed with all of her being. 

She felt a little guilty for thinking that last thought as it was getting harder and harder to compare the Draco she knew _now_ to the Malfoy she knew _then_. Of course the choices we make are a part of us, but he’d taken responsibility, apologized and was working to do some good in the world. And something about that made it harder to think of him as the boy she’d associated him with before. They were almost like two different people, though there were parts of his personality now that were clear descendants of the Malfoy of old; a confidence and sharpness that were distinctly Draco, just evolved and redirected.

She slumped down on the couch, Crookshanks jumping onto her lap, tail brushing against her face as she gently pushed it out of the way with a laugh and sighed, fixing her stare on the mantel across the room which held a photograph of her and her parents from a birthday when she was young, a photograph of her, Ron and Harry from Ron’s wedding, and a few trinkets from her travels. One of which was from Paris, purchased on summer holiday with her parents when she was in her early twenties. It was just a small statue of the Eiffel Tower, but its meaning was deeper than that. It was the first trip she’d taken with her parents after they’d finally reunited. It had taken her three years to find them in Australia, and another few months to break her own memory charms before they were properly reintroduced to their daughter. 

It was part of why she idealized Paris, because to her, it was a place of new beginnings and new memories. It was the place where she really reconnected with her parents after they’d learned what had happened and taken some needed time to come to terms with the things they’d missed and the daughter they’d almost lost. Paris was where they had all come together again and agreed to start rebuilding their relationship with happy memories and new experiences.

Thoughts of Paris brought her back to their conversation in the lab, and she wondered why he seemed so keen to ask about her love life. Perhaps it was just part of becoming friends, but could there be more to it? And would she want there to be? She could accept that there was an attraction there, but if she took a step back and looked at the bigger picture, she had to recognize that it simply didn’t matter. They were colleagues and she was overseeing his project. They could be friends, they could go to lunch, they could go to dinner, but it couldn’t be more than that. And she was sure he wasn’t thinking about her like that anyway and that was for the best. Friendship was one thing, but more than that would likely come with even more internal debates she didn’t have the energy for.

She leaned her head back on the couch to stare at the ceiling, allowing her mind to think about the things she felt when he was close to her as a small smile crept subconsciously onto her lips. It was a very nice feeling in the moment. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had given her that I-can’t-think-straight feeling. And that’s exactly what it had been.

O-o-o-o-o-o-o

The next week felt like it crawled by as her anticipation for the next time she’d see Draco mounted. It was silly, since she knew it was nothing more than a working relationship, but she couldn’t help wanting to be around him again after sharing such an intense moment.

Thursday’s lunch had been similar to all the others as the four friends met at the Three Broomsticks at noon. Pansy had pulled Harry to her by the tie, kissing him in between words of greeting as he’d smiled quite happily against her lips, his hands slipping around her back.

Draco and Hermione shared a look and an amused sigh before Draco snapped his fingers, “Alright you two, into the restaurant. It’s noon on a bloody Thursday.”

Harry’s ears had gone a bit pink but he’d kissed her once more anyway before leading the way inside.

“You’d think after dating for a month they’d stop snogging _all_ the time,” Draco said to her quietly as they followed and she laughed, relaxing into their normal interactions and happy that their Thursday/Friday activities were finally here.

Lunch went as it always did as they talked about their weekends, Harry going into detail about the dinner Pansy had made him and she’d made a quip about dessert being even better, which they’d shared a mischievous grin at, keying both Draco and Hermione in to the fact that dessert probably was not food and they’d admonished them, as they always did, for not being more creative with their innuendos.

Hermione had picked up on a flirtier tone in Draco’s voice at some points in the afternoon, specifically those points in which Pansy and Harry’s heads were together whispering things to each other. He’d mentioned her outfit was nice today; a new dress she’d bought over the weekend and had been looking forward to casually wearing for their Thursday outing, and later he’d made a joke about their double date lunches with a look that almost challenged her to comment on the phrasing, but instead she’d looked back at him, trying to match the look without giving away the increased heart rate happening in her chest as she’d noted it was more like two separate singular dates that ended up at the same table and he’d huffed out a “ _Touché_.”

Friday had arrived again, two weeks from the quarterly update, and Draco and Hermione were working on the Essence of Space potion, which was another longer brew that would take about three and a half hours, (she wondered if he’d chosen another longer one on purpose). They’d slipped off their jackets to hang on the door and underneath she’d worn a long-sleeved deep crimson blouse that tucked into her skirt. She’d never cared quite so much about the things she wore to work, but she found she took a little extra time on her days at Draconis Laboratories to pick out a nice outfit and run some hair potion through her mane.

They’d brewed the potion with a few changes made based on their research and settled in, Draco bringing up the book he’d most recently recommended to her on wizarding travel destinations. He had learned her travels were heavily weighted in muggle cities to enjoy with her parents and although she had visited a few wizarding towns, the list he’d wanted to rattle off to her was far too long, so he’d sent her along with a book from his reading shelf. The conversation had flowed from there and somehow in the blink of an eye, three and a half hours had passed. It was the first time they’d talked the whole brew session, but it had been oddly easy.

“Looks good to go,” Draco commented as the brew passed cell testing, the clock again showing early evening, and he held out his hand out for a vial, which she handed him, “Cheers.” He tipped the vial back and felt a fizzing sensation flow down his throat and an invisible, warm, gooey shield spread over his body as he shivered a moment, standing and walking into a small, clear area of the room, “Okay, try to touch me,” he said, enjoying that he could use that kind of phrase right now to gauge her reaction.

“Hm?” She asked, leaning forward as though she may have heard him incorrectly.

“Touch me, Granger,” he said, his lip pulling up.

“I — oh. Right. Yes,” she stepped forward, remembering what potion they were testing as she tried to recover her normal demeanor to mask the feeling of her heart momentarily jumping out of her chest when she’d heard his request.

She walked forward, extending her arm as she got close enough, feeling like time may be slowing at the thought of the potion not working, but she pushed the thought to the back of her mind and reached for him, but to no avail. Three inches from his chest, her hand hit an invisible barrier, “Works,” she breathed, looking up at him.

Essence of Space was a potion that acted almost like a personal bubble charm; a protective shield that extended three inches around the body. It worked by the cells in the body repelling foreign cells from another body from coming within a certain distance, so no other person could permeate the three inch barrier while the potion was in effect. It didn’t work on spells or magic, it was specifically for physical person-to-person contact. A potion created for those whose anxiety was heightened in large crowds to give them a sense of comfort at retaining their personal space.

“Great,” Draco responded, their eyes still on each other. The view of her reaching for his chest had impacted him in a way he hadn’t been expecting. They both knew what the potion did, but it was still invigorating to watch her hand extend towards him, a part of him hoping the potion change had been a failure all together and the barrier would be down, “No side effects anymore,” he figured if he kept talking, they wouldn’t have to move yet, “Before I felt like I was physically being pushed from whoever was coming towards my personal space, but I don’t feel any push back now. The barrier just seems to be up. Do you feel any push back?”

“No,” she shook her head, “Nothing on my end either, just can’t get any closer.”

“Good, well maybe it makes sense for us to test how long the potion is effective for. Make sure the changes didn’t impact the duration.”

“Sure, makes sense,” she said nonchalantly, not minding at all continuing to stand close to him with her hand three inches from his chest.

“I only took enough for a couple of minutes, shouldn’t be long,” he noted evenly.

She just nodded, unsure what to say as her mind felt utterly blank. She noticed his eyes were a light shade of blue the way the light was hitting them in the lab. She’d always considered them more of a grey color, something she attributed to the coldness he held behind them, but she could see specks of blue coming through and it was quite paralyzing.

“Do you feel anything?” he asked, enjoying the game of double entendres he was allowed to play for a few moments.

“No changes yet,” she responded in what felt like a casual voice, keeping herself in check.

And then the barrier fizzled. It happened quickly and didn’t give her proper time to react before her hand pushed forward to land on his pressed white button-down. She looked down as it happened, watching as her breath hitched and her hand lingered just a moment, her entire body feeling a jolt totally unrelated to the ones she usually felt and then she pulled her hand back, “Duration seems consistent,” she said, their eyes locking once more.

“Great,” he responded, feeling the urge to pull her against him and capture her lips, which were parted slightly, and he thought he might know why. But he couldn’t; this wasn’t the place to cross the line, no matter how haywire his senses were going at the feeling of her hand landing on his chest, “Well, I think we’ve fixed all the side effects on this one then. We can update the instructions and send it down to the clinical lab for their trials on Monday.”

“Great,” she said, taking a purposeful step back, now that their reason for being so close to one another was over, “Yes, we’ll update and then hopefully testing will go well.”

“If we can get through the trials in the next week, we might be able to add this one to the list for final approval testing with the Healing Potions Administration along with the other two we’ve got ready.”

“How long have you been monitoring results on the last brew?” she asked as she started organizing jars to return to the shelves, feeling her heart rate starting to return to normal.

“A little over six months for this one and the changes we’ve made are all within regulation for not having to restart the monitoring time restrictions; no new ingredients or increases in ingredient potency outside of the guidelines,” he’d began levitating the brewing tools over to the sink, where the water was running and a sponge was hovering to begin the disinfection process.

“It would be wonderful to put three HPA approved potions into my quarterly update,” she commented, “When are they coming out to inspect the other two?”

“A week from Wednesday,” he said with a bit of a smug, knowing look. Yes, he’d planned to give himself as much time as he possibly could to tinker with potions before having the HPA come out right before the first quarterly update. But he’d done it for this reason exactly. It would have been a shame to have them out sooner and then complete trials on another potion and have to wait to have it inspected. They were normally scheduled out at least a month or so for appointments.

“Perfect timing.”

They cleaned up the lab together before leaving for the night, passing through the empty halls of the office and past the reception area. They took the elevators down to the bottom floor, ensuring to put a respectable amount of distance between them while in an even smaller enclosed space, and came out onto the street where Draco held out his hand as he always did, “Good work these last few weeks, Granger, we’ve accomplished a lot.”

“ _You’ve_ accomplished a lot,” she corrected, taking his hand and shaking it as they both lingered there an extra few seconds, “I’m just here on Fridays to play lab assistant.”

“You do more than you realize,” he said honestly, honing in on how soft her hand felt in his, something he’d never really thought about until now, before he remembered it was just a handshake and pulled his hand back as they bid farewell for the night, both departing with a head full of new, enticing, confusing thoughts.

O-o-o-o-o-o-o


	10. Results of the HPA Review

The next week and a half at Draconis Laboratories was centered around amping up testing on the three potions they were preparing for the Healing Potions Administration review: the Essence of Space, Dream Aid and Cheery Solution. With positive results and no setbacks by that Tuesday evening before their review, Susan compiled the official trial documents and a log of mixtures changes evidencing that each trial process had been in line with regulations, and organized them into binders with color coded tabs and neatly scribed labels. 

Most of the staff were there late that night to ensure everything was ready, as this would be one of the biggest days the company had seen since its inception; something to validate the goals they’d been working towards, even if it was just a few potions out of the line. But even with all that was on the line the following day, Draco left feeling confident as opposed to nervous, knowing their results supported the approvals they were vying for. If anything, he was just looking forward to it all being over and solidified so he could bring the good news to Hermione and celebrate. And as much as he knew that thought should be a subconscious one, it wasn't. Their connection was only becoming more apparent by the week and although he wasn't sure what to do... or feel... about it, he certainly couldn't deny it was there and it was intriguing. 

There had been another moment on her last visit where she’d been reading through a line on his potion instructions and couldn’t discern his handwriting — which was fair, it could be highly illegible when he was writing something down quick in between timed tasks — and he’d walked over to help her figure it out. He’d read over her shoulder, standing just far enough back not to touch her, but close enough for her to feel his presence. He’d watched for a reaction while pretending he also couldn't read what he’d written, and he’d been quite pleased when she’d moved the hair covering her shoulder to the side and had looked up at him innocently as though waiting to hear what he thought it might say. However the way her eyes had flickered as they locked with his was anything but innocent and as he glanced up from the parchment to meet her gaze, it had taken everything in him not to give in right then, but instead he’d rattled off the incoherently written instruction and given her a mysterious grin that may have signaled that he thought it was amusing she couldn’t read it, or that he had something else on his mind. That was for her to determine.

As he’d stepped back to the cauldron he’d noticed in the corner of his eye as she took a deeper breath than normal and cleared her throat, sitting up a little straighter. If he wasn’t mistaken, she also seemed to enjoy when he was… professionally close. And for some reason he couldn't stop thinking about her even on his off time now. He found his mind bringing her up just doing mundane things around the house. For example, the other night he’d been making a pot of soup and thought about how she’d mentioned that radish soup was her natural cold remedy before she turned to potions. And although he could feel some semblance of reciprocation of his intrigue, he knew that he couldn’t just assume she was interested, as his past would always be something that could stand between them. And he wouldn’t blame her for feeling that way if it did. It stood between him and a lot of things.

O-o-o-o-o-o-o

Hermione looked up as Draco walked into her office Thursday at lunch time, his expression as unreadable as ever, “And?” She asked expectantly.

He continued to walk forward without a word as their eyes stayed fixed on each other until he was right in front of her. He handed her a small stack of papers and she finally looked down, taking them to read the top page before she shook her head and met his gaze again.

“You’re so dramatic sometimes,” she said with a smile that was broadening by the word, “Congratulations.”

His lips spread as hers did, “Three down and eight to go!”

“This is wonderful,” she looked back down at the papers in her hands, flipping through them to see each certificate of approval for the potions that had been reviewed, “Good thing, too, because I’d already written up the success in my quarterly update I’ll be submitting tonight to present Monday morning at the Committee meeting.”

“Glad I didn’t make more work for you then,” he said, leaning against the arm of the chair in front of her desk, “And those are copies for your files, so they’re part of my weekly update packet this week.”

“I’ll add them into what I provide to the Committee,” she nodded, stacking the papers together again.

“I hope you know we’ll have to celebrate this,” he said matter-of-factly.

She nodded, “I can’t argue with you there,” she was too elated with the outcome to even try to play coy.

“Great. How about drinks tonight after work?”

“Tonight?” She asked, trying to sift through the work she needed to get done before her day tomorrow.

“Only makes sense,” he said coolly, “Got the approvals today, it feels like the right day to cheers to it.”

“Yes, yes you’re right, today is a big day,” she sighed, “Alright, but it’ll have to be around eight so I can finish up what I need to tonight.”

“Just a normal work night for me.”

She gave him a look before shaking her head, “Where are we going to celebrate?”

“Seems like a night for a Fizzing Gin Buzz, wouldn’t you say?”

She chuckled, “I’ll meet you at The Dragon Lair at eight. Is anyone else joining?”

“I’ll ask around the team, but they don’t stay at the office quite that late so I’m not sure how willing they’d be to come back out after going home, especially with the late nights they put in earlier this week to prepare.”

“Alright, well either way,” she shrugged nonchalantly.

A knock at the door turned both their heads.

“Kingsley, hi,” Hermione smiled as he walked in.

“Hermione, I was just hoping to go over some proposals on my desk if you’ve got a few minutes, doesn’t have to be right this moment,” he turned to Draco, “Draco Malfoy, I presume?”

“Nice to meet you, Minister,” he pushed himself off the arm of the chair and held out his hand as Kingsley shook it firmly.

“You as well,” he nodded, “I’ve heard things are moving along smoothly at Draconis Laboratories so I’m looking forward to hearing Hermione’s official update on Monday.”

“Quite well, yes,” he said, “We’ve had a great push forward today, but I won’t spoil the suspense of what I’m sure will be a thrilling presentation.”

Kingsley gave a hearty laugh, “I do enjoy a good surprise. I’m eager to hear. Your research has piqued my interest since it passed by my desk. I wish you the best of luck.”

“Thank you, Minister,” Draco said with a very businessman-esque humble nod.

“Hermione, just stop in whenever you’re free this afternoon.”

“I’ll be over in a few minutes,” she confirmed as Kingsley left for his office again.

“I better be going as well, can’t make lunch today as I’ll be helping Blaise finish the final paperwork on these potion approvals so we can start talking about the marketing strategy with Pansy this afternoon. We were thinking we’d like to release the line all at the same time next year, but now that we’ve got some approved, it’s time to revisit that plan. I did want to at least personally drop off the weekly update for you today, though.”

“Don’t worry about lunch, I could use the extra time to get through some things to make drinks tonight. But I’ve been thinking about the review all morning so I’m happy to have these in hand,” she said, the brightness in her features still prevalent.

“We all like a little suspense,” he winked, turning for the door, “See you at eight.”

O-o-o-o-o-o-o

At quarter to eight Harry’s head popped in the doorway, “Heard we’re going out for drinks,” he grinned at her.

“So Pansy must have agreed,” she quipped, trying not to feel disappointed that she wasn’t going out one-on-one with Draco. That was certainly for the best and she _did_ want to celebrate with everyone; it was a team win after all.

“Yeah she stopped over around six to let me know before she went home to change.”

“You’re really happy with her, aren’t you?” Hermione couldn’t help but notice the extra spring in his step, “I never would have guessed it.”

“Incredibly,” and it showed all over his face, “She’s smart, you know, and spontaneous in a way that gets me out of my comfort zone. And some days her carefree outlook and Slytherin humor just make the world feel lighter. You know better than most that life hasn’t been the easiest for me — for any of us — but when I’m with her, it all fades away and makes me feel like I can be young and carefree in a way I never have been. Plus that confidence she walks around with is oddly endearing. ”

Hermione cocked her head to the side with a nod, “Yeah we need that sometimes don’t we, someone with a bit of confidence that teeters on cockiness to stimulate us a little and shake us out of our routine.”

“I think it’s nice,” he looked at her an extra second, “Maybe you’ll find yourself a nice Slytherin too.”

Hermione pursed her lips as though she hadn’t just been thinking about the stimulation she got from her bantering with Draco, “I’m just focused on work, Harry.”

“Mmhmm,” he nodded as though he totally believed her, “Ready to go?”

She ignored him, “Yes, let me just pack up quick.”

In no time they were walking into The Dragon Lair where Draco, Pansy, Blaise and Susan looked like they had just been seated at one of the booths.

Pansy slid out from her seat, looking like she certainly hadn’t come from the office in her tight leather skirt and deep red, long-sleeve top, “Looks like The Chosen One has arrived,” she said in a silky voice, slinking her arms around his neck as he leaned in for a very showy kiss hello.

“Hi Pansy,” Hermione said in a sing-song voice as she continued walking past the two lovebirds. Pansy waved a hand up in acknowledgement, not quite done with her greeting yet.

“Hermione, glad you could make it,” Blaise said with a wry smile as she slid in next to Draco in the middle of the table, “Draco was just telling us about your contribution to the success of getting the Dimmer Potion into clinical trials. Gushing about it, really.”

“I was not _gushing_ ,” Draco scoffed at him, turning to Hermione, who he could now see was wearing a very classic black dress that hugged her curves quite nicely under her fitted blazer. He hadn’t noticed it when she’d been seated behind her desk, “Nice to see you out of work so early.”

“Well tonight is a night to celebrate, is it not?” She was interested in Blaise’s comment, wondering how accurate the accusations were. Not that Draco was one to _gush_ about anything.

“I think we all deserve a drink or two for the accomplishment,” Susan said with a broad smile, “It was such a nerve wracking day having the HPA in the office. I felt like the whole company was on display to be judged.”

“That entire group in the Department for the Regulation of Experimental Spells and Potions is just a bit uptight because of all the paperwork they have to fill out,” Harry said as he slid in next to Hermione, Pansy behind him, “But the HPA especially because they’re absolutely fucked if they approve something that’s not ready.”

“Well I’m not worried about our potions bringing them any slack,” Draco said confidently.

“Good evening,” the server with the slicked back hair and silky robes stopped in front of their table, “What can I get you to drink?”

“Fizzing Gin Buzz for me,” Hermione said without even picking up a menu.

“Firewhiskey, neat,” Harry said as Pansy’s mouth split into a devilish grin.

“I’ll have the same,” she said, which was seconded by Draco and Blaise.

“Gigglewater, please,” Susan smiled at the waiter, who nodded, the quill hovering at his side scribbling against a small piece of parchment.

“I’ll have those over in a moment.”

They settled in, recanting the story of the HPA’s visit and the rigorous demonstrations, presentations and Q&A’s they had to go through. Their drinks were levitated over and Draco took a moment for a quick speech about how proud he was of everyone and how their accomplishment was only that because of each person’s individual contributions that lead to their collective success. It was the speech of a well spoken businessman and they all cheers’d to it with laughs and whoops.

They stayed for a few hours, Blaise being the first to call it a night before Susan left shortly after him. Harry and Pansy left some time later together after doing an impressive job staying involved in conversation instead of attached to each others’ faces. And finally, Draco and Hermione were left talking between them, both aware that they were alone again, but neither pointing it out as that might be a signal that it was time for them to leave. 

“Another drink?” Hermione asked as she set her glass aside, noticing his was empty as well.

Draco felt contentedly loose, but remained as stoic as ever as he nodded his head, “One more.”

The drinks arrived and they continued their conversation on the Hogwarts staff changes they’d heard about since leaving the school.

“That reminds me,” Hermione said as they got off the subject of Trelawney’s new _Seeing the Future_ business that had opened in Hogsmeade, “Neville mentioned he might be considering the larger world of Herbology.”

“Longbottom? He’s teaching now, isn’t he?”

“Yes, but he said Sprout’s not going anywhere anytime soon for him to take the higher level classes so he’s thinking about what else may be out there for him.”

“I remember he was strong in Herbology,” Draco nodded, “Too bad we don’t have anything open in the greenhouses. Not that he’d ever want to work for me after the turmoil I put him through.”

“He said he’d consider it, actually,” Hermione told him, “I had mentioned the work I was doing with your company and he sounded interested.”

“Well if Adrien ever leaves — and I hope he doesn’t — but if he did for some reason, I’d reach out to him.”

“Good, I’ll tell him you said that,” she smiled, her head feeling pleasantly fuzzy as she set down her glass, “You know, if you keep up this progress, I really feel like you’re going to get all those potions approved by the time the funding runs out.”

“I was actually hoping for one or two more in this review, if I’m being honest,” he sighed, “I know it’s technically a fourth of the potions, but three of them are significantly more complicated than the rest so we should really be getting more approved earlier to free up research and trial time for the more complex ones.”

“Something to shoot for in February,” she said, still in a tone of positivity, “Let’s make it a goal. At least five more to review by mid-February.”

He grinned at her outlook, “Five more by February,” he clinked his glass against her and they both downed the last sip, “Shall we get going so we’re fresh for our professional Ministry oversight day tomorrow?” He quipped and she laughed.

“I already know I’m going to need a vial of Revitalization Serum for the hangover I’ll have, but yes, we should go. Care to walk me home, or are you in a hurry to get to bed?”

“No, I can walk you home,” he said, keeping his expression cool as they slid from the booth, Hermione trying to usher the dizzy feeling away so she could enjoy the time together as they began their walk through town discussing which potions they thought they might be able to group together to give them the time and resources to prepare five more potions for approvals in the next three months. Which proved to be a more difficult conversation to have after drinks as Hermione kept messing up the names and Draco kept losing track of the ones they’d already talked about.

As they approached her flat, both laughing as Hermione butchered the name of one of the ingredients she’d wanted to tell him about for the Alarm Serum, he started walking with her up the stairs, hands in his pockets without a thought and she didn’t seem to think twice on it either, slapping his arm gently as he told her bluntly that there was certainly was no such ingredient called halo twinkles.

“Laugh all you want,” she said smartly, “It’s something like that and you’re going to feel silly for not knowing what I’m talking about.”

The twinkle in his own eye was prominently displayed, “You’ll have to show me the section you found on it tomorrow before we get started.”

They stopped at the top of the stairs and she pulled out her wand, “I will, it’s in the book you lent me and I’ve got it flagged.”

“I knew I may never see that book again."

“Oh stop, I’m going to bring it back. It’s just got some really great information and I keep coming back to it as I’m researching so I hate to let it go just yet.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got plenty of others in the lab, I’m not missing it.”

“I figured if you were you’d ask,” she said before looking at the door and realizing they’d been standing there a minute now as she sighed, “Well, I should get to bed if we’ve got an early morning,” she tapped the door with her wand and placed it back in the inside pocket of her blazer, turning back to him again, still not totally feeling like she was ready to step inside but knowing she should, “Thanks for inviting me out tonight to celebrate.”

“I’m glad you came,” his head was still swirling a bit as their eyes met and they shared a grin, “You know, I’ve enjoyed having you around the office,” he said as he acknowledged that she still hadn’t reached for the door.

“Have you?” She asked cheekily, “Even though you have to share your personal space with your Gryffindor rival?”

“I actually haven’t minded that part at all,” he said, “And I daresay you’ve enjoyed it as well.”

Her mouth felt a little dry as her brain tried to figure out if he was flirting with her or commending their teamwork, and not wanting to guess the wrong one, “It’s been quite the experience,” she said, feeling her heart rate picking up again, her gaze falling slightly to his lips and back to his eyes, something she’d barely even realized she’d done.

But he’d noticed and it had been the last straw as he teetered on the two scenarios his brain was weighing as they stood there, “It has been,” he agreed in a low voice before he took a small, deliberate step forward so they were only a few inches apart as she remained rooted to her spot, her chin tilting up and her eyes still locked on his with a questioning look that couldn’t quite hide the longing that lay behind them. 

He leaned down slowly, watching her reaction as her eyes instinctively closed and his lip pulled up into a pleased smirk as his closed as well, their lips meeting softly and lingering a moment before he pulled back an inch to check in. Her eyes opened and her breath was heavy on his lips as they stared at one another for half a second before her hand lifted to his chest and he pulled his from his pockets to pull her closer, capturing her lips more fully. It was still hesitant and unsure, but absolutely electrifying. Her lips parted slightly and his tongue slipped in to brush against hers before their lips were together again, both acutely aware that they were still outside on the doorstep.

“We shouldn’t do this,” he said, pulling back for just long enough to utter the words between kisses. 

“No, we shouldn’t,” she confirmed, pressing her lips back to his as a chilling sensation ran down her spine, neither of them paying attention to what he’d said.

“Out here,” he clarified, and their eyes met again.

“Right,” she said, reaching back for the door handle to her flat and pushing it open as she stepped backwards over the threshold, pulling him in with her where he landed against her lips, the door shutting behind them. 

He grinned into the kiss as he realized what she’d just done, and spun her around, pushing her gently back to the door with another fierce kiss. She couldn’t help the small moan that escaped her lips after letting the tension between them build for the last few weeks. She knew this was wrong; They really _shouldn’t_ be doing this. She shouldn't be snogging Draco Malfoy, and the list of _why_ she shouldn’t be was very long. Her eyes fluttered open between kisses at that thought and she subconsciously registered Crookshanks’ tale whipping around the corner to escape to another room before one of Draco’s hands had made its way to her neck, their lips reconnecting and his thumb brushing down the side, causing her eyes to flutter blissfully back closed. His tongue moved against hers in a way she could have only imagined and she lost track of her thoughts again as goosebumps flooded her arms. 

“This is a bad idea,” she said almost inaudibly, her hands pulling at the tie around his neck to undo it, feeling like if she at least said the words out loud it would feel like she was trying to be responsible.

“Terrible,” he replied, loving the feeling of her soft skin under his and the picture he now held of Hermione Granger undoing his tie, her eyes flashing at him that she wanted more. It was enough to drive any man to the edge. 

Hermione’s hands moved to the buttons on his shirt, loosening them one at a time as he pushed the hair back over her shoulder and his lips moved to her neck, one hand propping him against the door.

Each spot his lips touched burned with heat and she fumbled with the next button on his shirt as she tried to focus. She’d been thinking about what it would feel like to be in this position with him ever since that first time he’d been close to her, standing over the cauldron, and now that it was happening, she could barely think straight. Perhaps a bit of that was the Fizzing Gin Buzzes, but she had to admit, most of it was the passion they seemed to have between them, something that had been growing as they connected intellectually and became more comfortable with each other. Though she wasn’t sure how comfortable it would be after this, after they came down from this cloud and acknowledged how it would impact their working relationship.

His lips had moved up her neck and were making their way across her jawline before they reconnected with hers, her hands finally making their way past his shirt to his bare chest, which was warm even after a walk in the cool fall air. As much as she wanted to give in and continue exploring, she started to feel a sense of unease thinking about Friday. And almost as soon as the thoughts began to force their way into her pleasantly foggy brain, she felt his kisses begin to slow and linger compared to their previous fierceness.

And then they were just standing there with their lips pressed together in a quiet moment of mutual understanding before he pulled back again, “We really shouldn’t do this, should we?” he said in what sounded like a very conflicted voice.

“No, we really shouldn't,” she responded similarly, the disappointment evident.

“Fuck,” he breathed and she nodded in response. With all of the strength he had in him, he pushed himself off the door and stepped back as they looked at each other for a moment, both breathing heavier, Draco taking note that her hair was a bit fussed and her cheeks tinged pink, “I’m sorry, I was out of line.”

“Yes,” she nodded with a small smile on her lips; Draco’s shirt was still open, revealing a toned, pale chest that, if she wasn’t mistaken by her peripheral view, had a few large scars slashed across it that were noticeable, but faded as they'd blended in over time. She didn’t let her gaze fall to inspect further, however, with more prevalent matters on her mind, “But obviously I wanted the same thing so don’t feel bad about it.”

His lip cocked at her comment and he huffed slightly. The look in her eyes was light even given the very messy situation he’d just put them in and he couldn’t help but step forward and capture her lips once more, her hands moving automatically to his chest, feeling the scars more clearly now as the realization moved into her conscious thoughts and her hands slid up to his shoulders, trying not to make a deal of it; she’d ask about it when the time was right. 

His hand cupped her cheek, taking in the way she tasted and the ease he felt in an intimate moment with her. He kissed her a few more times before stepping back again, “I should go tonight.”

She nodded, no words coming to mind that would make this any easier.

“But maybe another night… with less drinks and more conversation about how this works…” he drifted off.

She felt her lips break into a small laugh, “I don’t know how this could work given our situation, but the project _is_ only another nine months and I think there’s a conversation to be had at least.”

The thought of waiting another nine months to kiss her again was terrorizing, but he had a feeling there was almost no chance of it being that long given the magnetism that now existed between them so he accepted the drunken rationalization for now with a nod, “We’ll have to go to dinner some time to have that conversation I guess. Off the record,” he gave her a suave wink, obviously perfectly confident in himself.

“We just have to stay professional,” she said, trying not to give in to his quips and think about the reality of it, “I’ve really enjoyed working together and I want to be the Ministry official that’s involved in this project. And I don’t want your work and progress muddied by a scandal.”

“I’ve already got plenty of scandals to my name, Granger, what’s one more.”

She gave him a look and he sighed.

“We’ll stay professional,” he promised, “I meant it when I said I enjoy having you around the office. I think you’ve been an absolute asset to our team, and to my research work, specifically. I don’t want to mess that up. But I’m not going to stand here and say I don’t want to explore this thing between us because I do. So, for now I’m going to go home and you can cool down,” she rolled her eyes at him and he grinned, “And I will see you professionally tomorrow and at some point, soon, I’d like to have a conversation about how this could work. But it’s certainly a conversation I’d like to have when we are both more sober than we are right now.”

She nodded, stepping away from the door and running a hand through her hair, “Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow and we can… talk, out of the office, about _this_ again soon after we both think about it a little more.”

He started buttoning his shirt, his tie hanging coolly untied over his shoulders, “Looking forward to it.”

He’d left her flat with mixed feelings that evening. It had been everything he’d hoped to feel from their connection — passionate, comfortable, _hot_ , quite honestly — but he knew to a degree that taking it further could really mess things up and she didn’t seem quite as convinced as he was that there was a way around that. He’d never want to make her feel like her job or position with the project was in jeopardy and of course he understood that was an inherent risk, and not one he could ask her to take. If she didn’t decide on her own that pursuing something more was worth it, he’d respect that, and it _was_ only nine more months and it _had_ been over a year since he’d even given casual dating an ounce of his energy so it’s not like he’d be sacrificing anything to wait it out. He could sit back and be professional through the project and let it progress as it did, he just didn’t _want_ to wait that long and hoped they could find a way to keep their working relationship intact while seeing what else was between them. 

However he also knew that with giving them both time to think on it, he was also allowing more time for her to consider all of the other factors besides their working relationship. He was sure she’d felt his scars, or perhaps seen them, although they were something he forgot about more often than not after so long; but it was sure to jog her memory of the things he’d been a part of which means outside of work, she’d also want to consider his past, _their_ past, and what pursuing anything at all with him might mean for her life. Not that he knew if things would really _go_ anywhere, but if they had agreed to have another conversation on the subject later and were clearly both thinking about something past this project _nine months out_ , it meant the possibility was there for something more than a physical attraction on both sides. It meant there was really a lot more to think about than giving in for one steamy hookup. No matter how badly he may have wanted it.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter should be up Friday! Please review if you've got a minute, would love to hear your thoughts on the story so far!


	11. The Anonymous Tip

Hermione sat staring at the ceiling as her alarm went off Friday morning. She reached her hand over to the bedside table, her gaze unmoving, and grabbed her wand, pointing it to her charmed clock on the wall and saying a quick spell to snooze it as a birdie retreated back into the face of the clock. She set the wand back on the table and folded her hands over her stomach, where they’d been prior to the disruption.

She’d been up for a while now, ever since the sun started pouring in the window enough to awaken her restless brain. She’d kissed Draco Malfoy. No, she hadn’t just kissed him, she’d snogged Draco Malfoy, pulled him into her apartment and began undressing him as he planted hot, goosebump-inducing kisses down her neck. They’d both slowed things down of course, it’s not like she’d slept with him. But it’s also not like she hadn’t wanted to. It’d been a while since the last man she’d dated and she certainly couldn’t pretend she hadn’t been very ready to let it go there, physically. It was just mentally… there was so much more to it than just giving in to what they both clearly wanted. She knew it, and he knew it.

After he’d left she’d stumbled into bed, letting her Fizzing-Gin-Buzz-spinning-head take over and lull her into sleep without overthinking it. And now it was the next morning, and there was a lot to unpack. She was trying to sift through her thoughts about how she felt letting their physical interests be explored at all, given their history. Was she doing something against her morals to be attracted to the man that had caused her so much pain when she was younger? Was she doing a disservice to all the others he’d hurt when he was on the other side? A disservice to Dumbledore for the Astronomy Tower? To Katie Bell for the necklace? To Ron for the mead?

Her stomach turned in knots, but for several conflicting reasons. The first was obvious, those were horrible things that happened to good people that he directly caused. The second was because she did feel empathy for him now, after spending so much time with him and meeting this new, improved, intriguing Draco, and especially after their conversation at The Dragon Lair a few weeks ago; Knowing how lost he’d been that year when he did those terrible things; how he hadn’t wanted to be a part of it after accepting what it meant, but fearing for his family and his life. He’d made the most feeble attempts he could think of to carry out his task, things he didn’t think would actually work, and Katie and Ron had gotten caught up in it. And he’d lowered his wand on Dumbledore in the end. It didn’t excuse it and it didn’t take away the pain he’d caused, but she knew a little more now what lay behind those actions.

And she knew him  _ now _ . She knew what regret he carried with him. She knew how dedicated he was to positively impacting the Wizarding World and righting some of the wrongs he’d committed. She knew what a smart, stimulating, passionate man he had become. She knew the beliefs he’d had that led him down that dark path were not beliefs he held anymore. 

The birdie popped out of her clock again, chirping a little louder than it had the first time as Crookshanks bounded off the bed at the offending sound and pranced out the door that was cracked open. Hermione grabbed her wand reflexively, flicking it at the clock again before she returned her hand to where it had been to continue mulling over her feelings.

If she’d never known Draco and met him as he was now for the first time, she’d have found him one of the most invigorating people she’d ever met. And of course, the physical attraction was undeniable. Maybe the right answer was just that she needed to continue getting to know him, learning his motivations and piecing together his past before she could make an educated judgment on what was right or wrong. Or what lengths compassion and empathy reached, and what things it left uncovered or insurmountable.

If she just didn’t dig into it, though; if she took out all the knowledge she had of his past and just thought about how she felt in the lab talking academics, how she felt out together engaged in a battle of wits over drinks, how she’d felt as deep, raw conversation flowed between them with strength instead of pain, how she felt when their eyes locked with that magnetic pull, with his lips against hers, with his grip firmly on her hips, with his chest under her hand... she felt a smile creep onto her lips and her eyes drifted closed. That feeling was not one she came across easily. He made her feel things deep down that she’d do almost anything to feel again. Almost anything... except put her job at risk, probably.

She sighed, her eyes opening again as the birdie came out of the clock once more, its chirping hitting a pitch and volume that would likely wake Harry as well, if he wasn’t at Pansy’s. She grabbed her wand, flicking it one last time at the clock to turn off the alarm before turning it slightly towards her shelf and summoning a vial of Revitalization Serum to calm her pounding head. She tipped the vial back, eyes closing again as the potion took effect and she felt her head clearing, smoke whistling out of her ears for a good few seconds before she took a deep breath in and out, hangover cured, and threw the blankets off of her to get ready for the day.

O-o-o-o-o-o-o

Susan looked frazzled as Hermione walked into the reception area that morning and she looked up with a thin smile, “Draco’s in an emergency meeting with the executive team, but he said I could take you back to his office and he’ll be there when he can to start your day.”

“Sure, no problem,” Hermione said with concern, “Is everything alright?”

“I’m sure he’ll tell you all about it,” Susan said as she stepped around her desk and started walking briskly, “An owl showed up this morning from the Department for the Regulation of Experimental Spells and Potions and they’re all just trying to make sense of it.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” Hermione started racking her brain as to what may have happened and if it had to do with the approvals they’d just received from the HPA.

Susan pushed Draco’s door open, ushering her in, “They’ve been in the meeting for an hour or so and he knows you’re coming so I’m sure he’ll be in soon, but I’ve got to get back to my desk to be ready for any more owls that come in.”

“Of course,” Hermione nodded as Susan pulled the door shut behind her and the sound of heels on marble slowly faded. She walked in, setting her bag down next to her chair and for the first time, looked around Draco’s office. He was always in here when she was, so she’d never had the opportunity to really let her eyes roam. The decor was mostly sleek black marble office supplies — paper organizers, clocks, pen holders, fancy vases, geometric artwork — but she also spotted a few pictures on the mantel in the corner. She glanced back at the door which was firmly shut before she walked over to inspect them. 

There was a picture of Draco and his mother, at a fancy gala, by the looks of it. Next to that was a picture of Draco, Pansy, Blaise, Adrien and Theo all moving between looking very professionally at the camera and laughing as Blaise whispered something. The last picture was of Draco and an older gentleman shaking hands and talking between them. She didn’t recognize the man, and could only assume it was the mentor Draco had mentioned from his apprenticeship. He was a very kind looking man with a lightness in his eyes that was solidified by the deep crows feet that surrounded them. He was shorter, with a head of dark auburn hair and a look of respect that radiated from him as he conversed with Draco.

Laying on the mantel next to the photos was a small piece of parchment that looked like it had been left there accidentally, based on the general cleanliness and organization of Draco’s office. She picked it up, scanning it and realizing it was a listing of the developmental potions. Some of the names were the same but a good number were worded slightly differently, as though they were the working titles from days past. Her brows furrowed as she got to the bottom where number twelve was crossed out. It was odd because she was only aware of eleven potions that he’d presented to her. It looked like there  _ had _ been a name there originally, but now it was just the number twelve followed by something that had subsequently been crossed out with heavy black ink.

Before she had much more time to think about it however, the door opened and Draco looked at her empty chair in confusion before glancing around the room and seeing her at the mantel. 

“Snooping?” He said with a crooked smile, like he was trying to be suave, but whatever else was on his mind was too cumbersome to give his tone what it needed.

“Sorry, I was just curious what photos you had over here,” she said, feeling her cheeks burn and wishing she’d gone back to sit down before he’d walked in.

She set the small piece of parchment back on the mantel, which he eyed only for a moment before continuing on to his chair, sitting down and gesturing to her normal chair that she was en route to. He looked much more casual than he normally did as he leaned back, bringing his foot up to his opposite leg as his arms flopped over the rests. He normally had a strong executive presence and looked the part of a CEO when conducting business: straight-back, hands clasped, gaze fixed... but she couldn’t quite tell what was going through his head right now; whether it was due to their evening activities or whatever was happening at the company.

She sat, crossing her legs, as was required by the skirt she was donning today, and leaning forward in her chair, “What happened?” She asked, getting to business and hoping it may dispel any awkwardness of their late-night encounter.

Draco looked like he was trying to figure out where to start before he met her gaze, “Someone sent an anonymous tip to the Department for the Regulation of Experimental Spells and Potions that the test result documentation we provided to the HPA for the potions they approved were falsified.”

“In what way?” she said indignantly.

“They said they had information that we never completed the full clinical trial periods and that the data was fraudulent.”

Hermione looked at him in disbelief, “What would anyone have to gain from sending in a lie like that?”

Draco’s lip curled up as he considered her. He’d expected her next question to be whether or not it was true, but instead, it was clear her full faith was in him that he wouldn’t have done that, “I think there are plenty of people that don’t want to see this company, and myself specifically, succeed. The question is how they knew we were getting potions approvals this week and how far they’ll go to take us down.”

“Have you gotten threats on your potions before?”

“A few,” he said evasively, “Hermione, you have to remember, as much as I don’t want you to, that I’m an ex-Death Eater. There are people on both sides that want to see me fail. The other Death Eaters, whether exonerated or having served their time, want to see it because I left on my own volition without tangible punishment, and everyone else wants to see it because no matter what I do, in their eyes, I will always  _ be _ a Death Eater. People have threatened me for selling out to the government, and for profiting off the war,” he looked at her pointedly to drive the point home.

She nodded with an embarrassed smile, “Right, sorry about that.”

He shrugged, “Who could blame you. I understand and I know I deserve it. But it could be someone from either side trying to set us back.”

“Is the Department for the Regulation of Experimental Spells and Potions going to pull the approvals?”

“They’re going into pending status,” he sighed with a shake of his head, “They’re going to launch an investigation before they’ll officially let the approvals stand. Which means we’ll have to hold off on trying to get them on shelves. And we’ll have to pull resources to aid in the investigation that starts next week, which sets our progress back as well.”

“I’m sorry, Draco,” she said and he could hear how genuine it was, “You’ve all worked so hard for this.”

“I just have a feeling it’s going to get leaked to the Prophet on Monday,” he said, “Which isn’t great timing given your quarterly update presentation.”

“I’ll deal with the Ministry,” she waved him off, “I’ve been here and documented plenty of first-hand progress, which can also be used in favor of the company in the investigation, of course.”

“I’m not worried about the outcome of the investigation,” Draco said with certainty, “It’s just the extra resources it’ll take, the morale around the office, and the picture it might paint to the outside world.”

Hermione paused before her next comment, “What do you think about being the ones to leak it to the Prophet, assuming it hasn’t been yet?” she asked, “I have an in there. Maybe if we get ahead of them it’ll put a different spin on it.”

Draco thought for a minute, clearly weighing the possibility of the story not breaking at all with the advantage of being the one to break it, “Maybe that’s our best strategy, make our stance clear that we believe we’re the victim in the investigation and just present the facts.”

“How about we take a few minutes to draft a quote from you on the situation, maybe get the executive team back together to brief them and talk about any angles you’d like to take? We can cancel my morning itinerary and I’ll go back to the Ministry to take care of this. I’ll come back in the afternoon and we can just do shorter sessions with everyone so I still get documentation of a good update for the week.”

“Alright,” he nodded with determination, “The executive team mostly talked details for the investigation proceedings they sent us this morning. Let’s round them back up.”

They went office to office until they’d gathered everyone into the conference room to decide how to tackle the Prophet. Hermione took note that there was fire in everyone’s eyes that morning at the allegations as they discussed how best to present the news. Another hour later, and after some convincing that getting ahead of it to leak it was even the right decision, Hermione had a sheet of notes to bring back to the Ministry with her. She followed Draco back to his office to grab her things, still going over notes.

“Do you want me to tell Shacklebolt yet?” she asked as she picked up her briefcase.

“Best to, I think, if it’s coming out in the Prophet anyway. Less of a surprise.”

“Okay, I’ll be back after lunch,” she said with a reassuring smile as she turned for the door.

“Oh and Granger,” he said as she grabbed the doorknob, looking back, “Even though this predicament has obviously taken all the attention today, I thought you should know my mind is still partially on the events of last night and I still fully intend to return to that conversation once things calm down here.”

He had a wry smile on his face and she couldn’t help but to mirror it, “One predicament at a time, Draco,” she winked inconspicuously before she turned back for the door and heard him give a dry laugh as she pulled it open, “See you this afternoon.”

O-o-o-o-o-o-o

Hermione walked into the Daily Prophet office and scanned the room before her eyes landed on a haughty looking witch dressed in a glaring, green silk suit leaning back in her chair and dictating to a certain quill. Hermione walked back, the woman’s eyes lifting over her glasses as she approached.

“Hermione Granger, to what do I owe the displeasure?”

“Rita, wonderful to see you as well,” Hermione said, taking a seat in the chair on the other side of Rita Skeeter’s desk, “I have a story for you.”

“Prophet’s full for Monday,” Rita said, grabbing her quill out of the air and setting it on her desk before she crossed her arms over her chest. She was never excited to see Hermione walk into the office, but Hermione also held enough over her head that she didn’t have much choice in hearing what she had to say.

“You’ll find space for this,” Hermione said, “Could you grab a quill? No, not that quill.”

Rita’s hand hovered over her Quick-Quotes Quill before her eyes narrowed and she huffed, opening her drawer and grabbing a standard quill and ink pot along with a piece of parchment, “Whatever is so important?”

“I’m here on behalf of Draconis Laboratories, a developmental potions company run by Draco Malfoy. They’re working on a batch of potions, some of which were recently approved by the Healing Potions Administration, however the day after they received the approvals an anonymous tip was sent to the Department for the Regulation of Experimental Spells and Potions that the company had doctored their results documentation for accelerated approval. They didn’t and they’re being set up.”

Rita looked at her, her eyes lighting up the slightest bit at the juicy news, “I like the fraud angle better,” she said, scratching the feather of her quill on the underside of her chin.

“They’re doing everything by the books at Draconis Laboratories. I’ve been overseeing their processes for the last three months as the Ministry is funding their research. Everything is ethical and up to standards and I stand behind them. Someone is trying to bring down the company.”

“Fraud at a company funded by the Ministry?” Her eyes were absolutely glittering.

“You’re not going to run that story, Rita, you’re going to run it as a news piece with facts, including that the allegations are unsubstantiated, and it’s got to be from an unbiased perspective. I have a quote from Draco as the CEO of Draconis Laboratories, and we’ve written down the pertinent facts of the investigation, all of which can be cross-checked with the Department for the Regulation of Experimental Spells and Potions. We’re not trying to sway anything, they just want to get ahead of the Prophet running the story from the fraud angle because it's not factual.”

Rita looks like she had plenty to say about being told what she was and wasn’t going to write, but in the end she looked down at the parchment Hermione had handed her and scanned it with a sigh, “I’ll write the story.”

“And I’d like it on page two so it’s there but not overly hyped,” Hermione said.

“No, can’t do it,” Rita shook her head. “Malfoy name puts it on the front page, I won’t compromise on that, this is a big story no matter how it’s written.”

Hermione looked at her hard, “Fine, but it goes on the bottom of the page, I don’t want it as the main headline.”

Rita fidgeted again but eventually agreed. 

“Thank you,” Hermione said, standing up, “If you have any questions or need any more information, send me an owl.”

“Fine.”

“And Rita, if you put a spin on this story, I’ll put a meeting on your boss’s calendar Monday morning about your very tiny secret.”

She and Rita shared a look of contemptuous understanding for a moment before Rita nodded curtly and Hermione left the Daily Prophet for the Minister’s Office.

“Is Kingsley in?” Hermione asked as Dennis looked up from the mail.

“Hermione, thought you were at Draconis Laboratories today?”

“Something’s come up that I need to talk to the Minister about.”

“He’s back there; door was open last I checked so he should be available.”

“Thanks, Dennis.”

She walked down the hall where Kingsley’s door was still open and she knocked as he looked up.

“Hermione, what are you doing back in the office?”

“Do you have a minute to talk?” She asked, stepping into his office as he nodded and shutting the door behind her, “Draconis Laboratories had three potions approved on Wednesday,” she started.

“That’s wonderful news, I assume that’s what you were planning to share at the Quarterly Update on Monday, though. What brings you in here to spoil the surprise?”

“They’ve been accused of providing fraudulent documents to the Healing Potions Administration in the review. The Department for the Regulation of Experimental Spells and Potions is launching an investigation and moving the approval statuses to pending.”

Kingsley furrowed his brows, “That’s less wonderful news. What are your thoughts on the matter after spending the last three months there? Do you think the allegations are true?”

“Not at all,” she said firmly, “I think they’re being set up by someone. Everything I’ve overseen has been completely in line with standards.”

“I trust your judgment of course, especially since you’ve personally been present for so long now, but why would someone want to sabotage a potions lab?”

Hermione skimmed the surface of what she’d talked with Draco about regarding motivations and their plan for getting ahead of it by going to the Prophet first. As she wrapped up with the notes she’d given Rita, Kingsley looked concerned.

“You think Rita Skeeter is going to write an unbiased factual piece on something surrounding a Malfoy? She’s probably been waiting for something like this for years. It’s a big story with big names.”

“Rita and I have a professional understanding with one another. She’s going to write the piece from a factual perspective. I even told her to confirm the details we provided with the Department for the Regulation of Experimental Spells and Potions to ensure it's free from bias on both sides.”

“You put more faith in Rita than I certainly would,” Kingsley said with a shake of his head, “But it’s clear that you and Draco have thought this strategy through and they should do whatever the company thinks is best. I’m eager to hear how the investigation goes. Do keep me up to date on their findings as well as the impact on progress in regards to research and allocation of the Ministry funds.”

“Yes, of course I will. We can plan to meet Monday mornings from now until the investigation closes so I can brief you on weekly updates.”

“Have Dennis put it on my calendar. Also, I think it’s best for you to brief the Budgeting Committee on this development on Monday, even though you’ve already submitted your presentation materials.”

“I figured I’d have to,” Hermione sighed, “Not the news I was hoping for this week, but I’m confident the investigation will go in their favor, it’s just a timing setback as I see it for now.”

“Thanks for bringing me up to speed,” Kingsley said as she stood to take her leave, “Hope the rest of your day over there goes better than your morning.”

Hermione left the Ministry after her meeting and apparated to an alleyway around the corner from a small coffee shop in the muggle part of London near Draconis Laboratories. She’d stumbled upon it at lunch one day and it had quickly become her go-to when she needed some time to herself. The door jingled as she walked in, ordering a cappuccino and taking a seat at a small table near the back. Her midnight make out session with Draco felt light years away after all that had transpired in the last few hours, but she couldn’t quite get the declaration from her mind that he’d made sure to note before she left that a conversation was still on the horizon. Even though they had such a tumultuous issue on their hands with the investigation, there was still a part of her mind that wanted to keep returning to the events of the night prior. 

With some time alone and away from the hustle and bustle of the wizarding world, she let her mind wander back to their short-lived moment of passion as she sipped her cappuccino, the hot liquid warming her whole body as the picture of Draco’s eyes locking with hers just inches away flooded her brain. That half-second after their first kiss where they’d both acknowledged their mutual want had made her heart stop in her chest and it was quite nice to sit here and relive it unabashedly before she locked it away again and returned to her professional duties with the same man.

O-o-o-o-o-o-o

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you endlessly for the reviews & kudos on the last chapter, I was so excited to get it out to you!! Look out for a Sunday or Monday update. I'm back into writing my later chapters - just finished Chapter 25 - which tends to slow down my editing time for the ones I'm posting for you! Trying very hard not to catch up to myself, however, so the story treks on :)


	12. The Investigation

Monday inevitably came as Hermione picked up the Prophet on the way into the Ministry. Rita had done as requested and not made it the top story, but of course it still stole the page on the bottom half, a large picture of the company logo flashing below the headline “ _Fraud or Framed: Draconis Laboratories Under Investigation Following Alleged Anonymous Tip."_

Hermione had sighed as she read it, of course Rita had to spice it up somehow. She’d skimmed the rest of the article however and been quite pleased to see that the substance of the details was what they had provided, including the quote from Draco and a follow-up quote confirming the current lack of substantiation of the allegations from the Department for the Regulation of Experimental Spells and Potions. All in all it was factual and unbiased, as Rita had begrudgingly promised it would be.

Hermione had arrived at the Ministry, heading to a big conference room on the second floor where she started her morning briefing for the Budgeting Committee on the progress — and setbacks — at Draconis Laboratories. There were, what felt like, endless questions from the committee members, most of whom had already read about the most recent events in the Prophet that morning. After fielding questions and making sure she got through the presentation she’d prepared for the day originally, the topic finally shifted to the budget for new brooms for the Auror department, which transitioned into department budgeting items and then finally the Ministry holiday party budget. By the end of the meeting, the seats finally thinned until she was left with Kingsley, who looked over at her.

“You handled the Draconis Laboratories presentation well. I think you reinstalled their confidence in the project when I know a lot of them came in wary after seeing the morning Prophet.”

“Thanks,” she gave him a tired smile, “I tried to make sure I was ready for whatever their concerns might be.”

“I think your being present at the lab has been a real asset with this project, especially now that they’ve got this investigation going on,” Kingsley told her, “I know we’re not usually this close to Ministry funded research, but it does make it much easier to truly know the ongoings of the company and see the progress our investment is aiding.”

“I think it’s been a very enlightening experience overall. They’re doing really exciting work over there.”

“Good,” Kingsley nodded with a smile, “That Malfoy boy certainly seems like he’s grown into a fine young man with a worthy business. A far cry from his father in my opinion.”

“He’s tried to distance himself from the Malfoy name as much as he can, honestly,” she said, “I think he’s just trying to do some good in the world.”

O-o-o-o-o-o-o

Monday was the same inevitability for Draco and the team at Draconis Laboratories. He’d held a company-wide meeting in the break room to start the day and address the Prophet article and then they’d gone about doling out responsibilities for the investigation, which was to start at ten o’clock sharp.

The Department for the Regulation of Experimental Spells and Potions had sent a team of three, including one of the wizards from the Healing Potions Administration that had been involved with the approval review. Draco had set up the conference room for the investigation team and assigned himself, as well as Blaise, as the designated contacts for requests and questions, as they were the closest to the trials and documentation

Draco had politely inquired about a timeline for the investigation, but his question had been met with a noncommittal, “Could be a couple weeks, could be a couple months.”

O-o-o-o-o-o-o

As the investigation commenced, they pulled clinical trial logs and mixture records, underwent interviews and interrogations, and put in the overtime hours to keep operations running as smoothly as they could, though productivity was still nowhere close to where it normally would be with research essentially being put on pause and clinical trials dialed back substantially. Luckily, with the organization of the company’s files and processes, they were able to provide everything that was requested timely and at the end of the second week, the Department for the Regulation of Experimental Spells and Potions investigation team reconvened with Draco and the executive team in the conference room.

“Mr. Malfoy—” the leader of the investigation started.

“Draco.”

The investigator, a small and stout man with a profound handlebar mustache, cleared his throat a little, “Draco, after going through our procedures, quite quickly I may add because of your preparedness, we’re happy to tell you that we found no indications of fraud. Everyone’s accounts of the trials align with the records and there were no triggers within the records that would point to falsification; nothing missing, no modification charms noted, nothing unusual. So we’ll be presenting the results of our investigation to the Healing Potions Administration at the beginning of next week and they’ll be in contact about verifying their original approvals.”

“That’s wonderful news,” Draco said, hands clasped on the table as he saw Pansy relax slightly next to him out of the corner of his eye.

“We’d like to thank you and your team for the continued cooperation and wish you the best of luck in your endeavors.”

“Thank you, we appreciate your diligence in getting through this investigation quickly so we can all get back to our day-to-days.”

The wizards at the end of the table stood and gathered their things before they took their leave, Susan seeing them to the atrium.

“Fuck that was stressful,” Blaise sat back casually with a long breath out of his nose once the door clicked shut again.

“And such a waste of our fucking time,” Pansy looked over at Draco with a shake of her head.

“At least it was quick and painless,” Adrien said evenly and Theo snorted.

“Alright, alright,” Draco couldn’t help his own relieved huff that escaped, “Main point is that it’s over and we should get our approvals back. Two weeks is better than I was anticipating; depending who was leading this thing I thought they might drag it out as long as they could just to mess with us.”

“Still no news on who owled in the tip?” Theo asked, twirling a quill around his fingers.

“No, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement said they can’t investigate even if we’re cleared because it could discourage people from using their anonymous owl drop altogether if they thought they could get in trouble for not being able to substantiate claims.”

“Such bullshit,” Pansy scoffed.

“I think we just have to hope whoever did this was just trying to rile us up and that they’ll stop now.”

"What if they don't?" Adrien asked quietly and his and Draco's eyes met in understanding.

"We'll deal with it as it comes," he stated.

"You think it was something sinister, Adrien?" Theo cocked an eyebrow, "I assumed it was just someone messing with us because of Draco."

"I just think we should be prepared for the possibility that it won't be their last attempt to set us back."

"Then we'll need to stay vigilant in our documentation and try to be a bit more quiet about our progress in public," Draco addressed him, sensing his unease and putting on his best confident-CEO voice to dispel it, "There's not much more we can do. This may have taken two weeks from us, and a bit of morale, but we beat them once and we can do it again if they try another attempt."

Adrien looked like he wanted to say more, but instead gave a thin smile and a nod, recognizing their triumph for the day and trying not to think about anything past that.

“Well at least you can have your Friday afternoons with Granger back,” Blaise said nonchalantly, changing the subject as Draco shot him a look, “Since she was such an asset to your research, is all I meant.”

“We can _all_ get back to our normal duties now,” Draco said pointedly, ignoring the implication as well as the sporadic grins around the table, “Having to put everything aside for the last couple weeks was a sacrifice we had to make, but we can resume a full schedule of trials now and _yes_ , I can go back to my afternoon research so we can keep making headway on the rest of our developmental line.”

Theo cocked his head to the side with a thought, “So does this mean the holiday party is back on?” 

“I don’t see why not,” Draco shrugged, “Can you pull it together in a week?”

“I do like a challenge,” Pansy grinned over at Theo who returned it with a nod.

“Alright, I‘ll let Susan know to send around an interoffice memo.”

“You going to join this year, Adrien?” Blaise asked as they started to stand and grab their parchment and quills they’d brought for the meeting.

“Yes, I think I will. Parties are not my forte, but I do think a nice evening will be in order after the events of the last month.”

Blaise clapped him on the back, “Glad to hear it.”

“So will you be bringing Granger?” Pansy asked innocently as everyone started filing out to return to their offices.

“I will invite her as a colleague,” Draco said, annoyed with everyone’s blatant speculation about his feelings for the brunette. He hadn’t told anyone about their very short, passionate encounter a few weeks prior, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t see the time he spent with her and the fact that he enjoyed her presence, not something they could say about many people he had to interact with. Draco was quite picky about anything he chose to spend his energy on outside of his work, people included.

“Whatever you want to call it,” she said airily, as they walked from the room, “Potter will be there anyway so I think it would be nice to include them both.”

“Things are going well then even with your extra hours at the office the last few weeks?”

“Distance adds a little mystery back in,” Pansy quipped, her lips in a coy smile, “We leave for Montmartre on a seven o’clock portkey so I’ll be very much enjoying getting… reacquainted this weekend.”

Draco chuckled as they split ways, “Have fun. Tell Potter I say hi.”

“Have a good weekend, Draco,” she waved behind her as she sauntered back down the hall.

O-o-o-o-o-o-o

_Hermione,_

_Investigation concluded today with no issues found, as anticipated. Wanted to keep you in the loop. We’re waiting until the approvals are re-confirmed to go to the Prophet. Should be early next week. Once we have them I’ll let you know so you can coordinate with your contact there._

_We’ll resume lab research next Friday. However as a caveat, we’ll be working on one of our potions with a shorter brew time as our company holiday party will be Friday night at eight._

_As you’ve been working so closely with the team, it only makes sense for you to join us, if you’re available. Pansy is coordinating specifics and Susan and Theo have a knack for transforming the atrium into a lovely event space for the holidays. If you can make it, please respond and I’ll add you to the tally for food and drinks. Dress is formal._

_Regards,_

_Draco_

Hermione put down the parchment with a broad smile etched on her face. She felt relieved and vindicated. It had been a stressful couple of weeks trying to check in with Draco every couple of days and pop into Draconis Laboratories when her testimony was requested by the investigation team, and balancing her own work at the Ministry. Not to mention the stress of putting all of the bubbling questions aside from her personal life. She and Draco had never gotten the chance to talk about their kiss; what it had meant or where to go from there. As much as she’d pushed it from her mind to focus on the investigation as well, it was still prominently waiting to be revisited.

When the investigation started, they had decided to cancel their Friday afternoon brew sessions so Draco could be available at all times for requests and questions for not only the investigation team, but his own team as well. He wanted to put out the right look for the company that he was one hundred percent involved in and committed to assisting the process, so his own research was set aside until their integrity was restored.

But now all that was over and she wished next Friday was much closer than it was. But she’d need the time anyway, now that she had to find a new dress for the holiday party. She felt a small pang of guilt wondering if she should have invited him to the Ministry holiday party that following Saturday, but it would look quite odd for her to bring the President of the company she was working professionally with as a date to the Ministry party. More than quite odd, actually… closer to inappropriate. This was why there wasn’t an option for them to be exploring their personal feelings right now and she’d do well to remember that. She may want to resume their professional work together, but she had to keep in mind the things she’d been repeating to herself for two weeks now: they had a professional relationship to maintain and she had a position on their project to keep. She sighed, shaking her head to clear those thoughts before she pulled a fresh sheet of parchment to scribe a note back.

_Draco,_

_Glad to hear the investigation is over and that you can all return to your research. I’ve got my contact queued up whenever you’re ready to go to the Prophet._

_Looking forward to getting back in the lab._

_And yes, I am available next Friday evening and would love to celebrate the holidays and the success of the investigation with the team. Sounds like I’ll need to find something to wear._

_See you next week,_

_Hermione_

O-o-o-o-o-o-o

If the week could have been any slower, she was sure it would have been. Every day seemed to crawl by and as Friday hit, she found herself awake before her alarm. Draco had skipped lunch again the day prior as he was trying to catch up on all of his work that he’d set to the side so today would be the first time she’d seen him since the investigation wrapped. She wished she didn’t feel excited to spend some more one-on-one time with him, but she did. She tried to brush it off as excitement to get back to brewing and researching, but she knew that wasn’t totally accurate.

She was greeted with a relieved smile by Susan as she walked out of the fireplace and into the atrium of Draconis Laboratories an hour later.

“Hermione! Welcome back,” she beamed at her, “Draco said you can just head back.”

“Thanks, Susan,” she returned the look, “So happy to hear the news last week.”

“We all are. Back to business as usual!”

The door was cracked and she knocked gently as she pushed it open, the smile still prominently on her face as Draco looked up from a stack of papers, brows furrowed in a disrupted thought and quill perched gently between his lips. She tried not to linger on it as her eyes met his and his expression softened.

“So how does it feel?” she asked as she walked in, shutting the door behind her.

He set his quill down, a grin spreading across his face, “Fucking good.”

She let out a small laugh, not usually expecting the coarse language in his office but certainly understanding the sentiment in the current moment, “Good. What a relief that’s over.”

He watched as she took a seat, sporting a very sleek black suit, the silky green shirt under her blazer catching his eye as his lip pulled up just a bit more. He did like green on her, “So your schedule is back to normal around here today starting in the greenhouse with Adrien at ten. When you wrap up at four we’ll be working on the Social Tonic in my lab. Brew time is only about an hour so we should be able to devote two hours to it and still get us out of here with plenty of time to get ready for the party tonight.”

“I bet you’re the type to take a while to get ready for a party, aren’t you?”

“Well I’ve got to pick up my new suit from Madam Malkins, so tonight, the answer to that is yes.”

“Of course you do.”

“I think I deserve a new suit after the last few weeks,” he said matter-of-factly.

“You know what,” she conceded, “I think you do too.”

“Glad that’s settled then. Shall we get on to the developments for the week, now that we’ve been able to do something other than cater to a group of wizards rifling through our files?”

“By all means.”

He updated her on the potions he’d been diving back into that week, noting that a lot of his time had been spent refreshing himself on where he’d left off and creating plans for the next few weeks through the holidays and into the new year. It had felt nice to sit there and return to the ease of discussing potions and research after weeks of tense but resilient talks of investigation progress and uncertainty.

Hermione internally registered that she felt an overwhelming sense of normalcy in her interactions with Draco now, passionate kiss and all, and it made her feel even more strongly about letting their connection play out how it would. A smile pulled at her lips as she listened to him rationalize the potion he’d chosen for their lab work that week, which had been carefully selected based on factors such as brew time, results in clinical trials and availability of resources. She truly couldn’t think of anywhere she’d rather be right now.

O-o-o-o-o-o-o

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah I know, a little bit of a filler chapter, but they've gotta happen sometimes! In exciting news, I've got a little treat planned for you all in a couple chapters, I'll give you more details in my next update :)


	13. Social Tonic

After her debrief with Draco, Hermione headed off to the greenhouses, ready to hear how the new crop of Gurdyroot was taking after the mishap from the last batch. She then moved on to the brewing department where Pansy updated her on their marketable potions numbers for the week versus budget and walked her around to note which they’d been amping up production on. She’d taken a short break at the coffee shop nearby for lunch before returning to sit in with Blaise on clinical trials of the Dimmer potion; a trial that had been going swimmingly since she’d tweaked the mixture with Draco. 

“I’d say this one is a go for the next round of approvals,” Blaise had mentioned with confidence, “Just needs one more month in trials since your tweaks but we’ve had nothing but success with it in all of our testers.”

“That’s wonderful to hear,” Hermione had made herself some notes as they turned back to the clinical patient, who was laying peacefully on the bed, commenting every couple of minutes on the status of the effects.

From clinical trials she moved over to Theo’s office to discuss finances, and more specifically, the impact of the investigation on their resources and, consequently, coin flow.

At four, she returned to Draco’s office and he looked up from what looked like a lengthy message, which he rolled up hastily, “Four already?”

“Do you need some more time? I can grab a tea and come back.”

“No, no it’s fine, this was nothing,” he opened the top drawer of his desk and set it inside before closing it, “Best to get to work today since we’re on a restricted time schedule.”

He met her over at the side door to the lab and ushered her through, closing it behind them. The piercing silence did nothing but highlight their privacy after three weeks without this one-on-one time together. It was something that couldn’t be ignored and that they both were fully aware of; their first stretch of alone time together since _that night_.

Draco cleared his throat a bit, “So what do you remember about the Social Tonic?”

She gladly took his conversation bait, trying very hard not to dwell on their privacy as this was not the time to shift her thoughts to personal matters, “Social Tonic…” she racked her brain for a moment as she took her seat, “This is the one that’s like a wizard magnet, right?”

Draco huffed in amusement, “I guess you could say that. It gives the drinker the urge to go somewhere and generally be around people.”

“I remember it as basically the opposite of the muggle repelling charm they used at the Quidditch World Cup,” she said, trying to liken it to something she was more familiar with.

“Yes, that’s a great way to think of it,” he rolled his sleeves up in two careful rolls, so that they still covered the majority of his skin, but just far enough not to get in the way of his tasks, “The point of it is to encourage socialization in someone who’s finding it difficult to push past shutting themselves off; Someone who wants to put themselves out there, but is just too burdened by negative thoughts or lack of energy to put the effort into making change on their own.”

Hermione nodded, knowing some people she’d love to recommend the potion to in her own life. It was easy to fall into a routine of just wanting to be alone and not deal with the outside world, especially when you were having a tough day or a long week, but it was so important to get your mind out of that isolated state and be distracted by friends and family.

“So currently it’s causing a bit of clinginess in the user,” Draco started pulling down vials from the shelves as Hermione lit a fire under the cauldron, “But this version is an improvement over our first brew, which had originally caused them to cling to whomever they first came across after taking the potion. Didn’t matter who it was, they just didn’t seem to want to leave their side. About a year ago we figured out a tweak to hone in on a part of the brain to recollects important people and routine places to that individual so that they’ll be drawn to friends or family and familiar locales rather than just whoever or whatever they stumble upon. It was a big breakthrough, honestly. So now we’re trying to tone down the emotional clinginess during that period that they’re in a social setting.”

“How do you do the clinical tests for this one?” She furrowed her brows curiously.

“Blaise basically has to set aside a morning or afternoon for this one trial and he’ll follow the person wherever the potion takes them and document things like where they went, who they were with, how clingy or needy they were for attention, and how long the effects lasted. When they return to the lab he’ll have a debrief about what kind of familiarity the tester has with those people or places so we can start understanding where it’s pulling them to. Like I said, that part is pretty under control now. They usually end up at their normal bar or restaurant, or a friend or family member’s house. Sometimes they’ll revert to work or something but it’s rare. We aimed for the part of the brain that the user associates with happiness so work usually filters out,” he paused, a wry smile forming at his lips, “Probably wouldn’t filter out for you though.”

She rolled her eyes, “You think you're so funny. Well it wouldn’t filter out for you either, would it?”

“No,” he kept their eye contact with a certain twinkle in his eye, “No, work certainly isn’t such a bad place to be some days.”

She felt her neck flush and shifted a little in her seat as to hide her reaction, quite happy to hear the implication that he enjoyed being there _with her_ , “So you said brew time is an hour?” She changed their subject as he set down the last of his brewing tools on the table.

“Correct. All we’re tweaking on this one is the levels of Infusion of Wormwood to see how it impacts the emotional aspect of the effects. It’s one of the ingredients that directly impacts speech and reaction time so I thought perhaps if we decrease it a bit it might alter the clinginess by letting the user have an extra second to think before they act. The urge to be clingy might be overpowered by the rationality to not be. I’m not sure it’ll impact it at all, but thought it was a good place to start. And I actually have some research I could use your help with while it’s brewing.”

“Of course,” she tried not to sound too excited, but was interested in what he was researching.

They got the potion going, adding in ingredients and stirring per the written instructions until half an hour later it was simmering in the cauldron.

“So next week I wanted to work a bit on one of the more complex potions — the Brain Elixir.”

“I’ve been so hoping I’d be here on a day you were working on that one,” she said with a broad smile.

“I just know it’s an endeavor so I keep pushing it back in my research rotation. But the team will be off next week for a long holiday weekend and I’ll have plenty of time to devote to the brew and any additional research. I’m guessing you won’t be able to join for the actual brew — as it's the holidays and all — but I certainly wouldn’t mind your help with research leading up to it.”

“I could still come in,” she said a little too quickly, “I attend the Weasley’s Christmas celebration but it won’t start until Saturday evening. I could do the brew with you on Friday and still go to the Burrow Saturday. Wouldn’t make a difference in my holiday plans.”

“You’re not going to spend it with your own parents?” He asked, caught on that detail as he remembered Hermione and Harry sharing stories of Christmas at the Weasley’s in years past and connecting the dots.

“I spend New Year’s with my parents,” she waved off his question, too excited about the potential to be a part of the Brain Elixir brewing, “I’d really like to see this potion, I know you said you’ve only done one brew before.”

“Alright, if you really don’t mind spending your day off at the lab, you’re welcome to join,” he shrugged, internally quite pleased that he’d have company — her company, specifically — for a long day of brewing, “In that case, how about you take these books, they’re theory books on potion ingredients and brain interactions. More detailed than anything else you’ve taken a look at so far and more specific to brain wave patterns.”

“Looks like it’ll make for some nice light reading this weekend,” she took the heavy books from him, setting them next to her notepad.

“And here’s a copy of some notes I’ve made from my first brew of the potion, I thought it might be a good place to start before you dive into your reading and since we’ve got an hour, we can go through it together so I can explain some items.”

She skimmed the first page with a nod, “Yes, sounds like a good plan.”

They spent the remainder of the brewing time for the Social Tonic discussing the successes and failures of his first brew of the Brain Elixir. They were deep in conversation on one of the theories he’d noted when the small clock on the table started bouncing up and down, catching their attention.

“Ah, brew’s done,” Draco stood, leaning over the cauldron, “Looks like a good consistency.”

Hermione leaned in from the other side, cognizant to keep some distance, “Nice and smooth.”

He ladled some into a small vial as Hermione prepared a cell for testing in a Petri dish.

“How are you going to test the Brain Elixir effects?” She asked as he tipped the vial of Social Tonic over the cell and watched for a reaction.

“I’m just going to test it for safety, honestly,” he sighed, “No way to have any idea of the effects myself so I’ll just take it to make sure there are no big adverse effects and then we’ll do some more detailed testing at the cell level. It’s a bit of a different… ah… process with brain potion testing, but we’ll get into that later. When we’re at a point that there’s no adverse side effects and the cells seem to be reacting to the potion, then we’ll have to find real volunteers, likely from witches or wizards with family members in St. Mungo’s. It’ll be a significantly more difficult trial to complete which is why I’d like to knock down some of the less complex ones, like this Social Tonic, to free up our resources when the time comes. But I would like to get it in trial shape by then as well. The whole potion is really just based on theory since no one’s ever attempted something like it.”

Hermione considered the plan with a slow nod, “I guess that makes sense. I hadn’t really considered the trial process for some of the more specific potions you’ve got in development.”

Draco stepped back from the Petri dish, satisfied with the cell testing results of the Social Tonic and ladled another scoop of potion into the vial, “A couple of them are going to be tricky and fully dependent of the participation of wizards who need the potion and are willing to be a part of the experiment to get it,” he raised the vial to Hermione, “Cheers.”

He poured it back and it bubbled jovially as it slid down his throat, “This one actually tastes quite good,” he commented, setting the vial down and waiting a moment for the potion to take effect.

Hermione waited as well, watching for signs and ready to follow him wherever he was about to take off to. She knew the portion size would only last about ten minutes but the whole team was still there so she was sure he’d stay close enough to see the results. To her surprise, however, he didn’t head for the door, alternatively, he straightened unnaturally as a dreamy look took over his features and he turned his head towards her, walking closer and leaning against the table, his leg brushing against hers.

“I quite like this potion, actually,” he said in a relaxed, if not a bit accelerated voice, “It makes me feel loose and more open I think. Open to talking and listening. I thought perhaps it would take me somewhere generally social — the break room, I would have guessed, but it seems my social interests lie in sitting right here and talking to you.”

“Should I jot that down in our notes?” She asked cheekily, finding it quite amusing that the potion had very blatantly told them both that she was not only important to him, but also the person he most wanted to socialize with even when surrounded by offices of his best friends and colleagues.

“No, no I don’t think you should,” his lip pulled up as he looked at her, “I think the real question is if I can pull away from you, where the potion wants me to be, and find the urge to socialize with someone else. It’s an odd feeling, almost like a magnet like you said, as soon as it hit I just felt compelled to walk over and settle myself right here. This is quite nice and I think I could stay here contentedly for a while.”

Hermione used all of her strength not to laugh as she noted that rambling seemed to be a side effect of the tweak, “Well, I think you should go find Blaise,” she suggested, trying to keep her own mind on the task at hand as much as she was enjoying this, “And I’ll stay here and just wait until you’re back.”

She watched as he paused for just a moment, trying to rationalize and fight against the clingy side effects she guessed, “I… would probably have a fine time doing that,” he nodded, clearly trying to pull his own personal will to the forefront of what the potion wanted him to do. He certainly felt he wanted to be around people, but he had to have the willpower to change locales to find the right social setting. To not be dead set on one social interaction. He knew deep down he would have a fine time being social with his other friends right now, even if the potion wanted him to stay right here and socialize with Hermione, “I’ll go to Blaise’s office.”

“Splendid.”

He nodded a bit stiffly and pushed himself from the desk, walking to the door. He paused at the door, looking back like he wanted to say more, but instead he forced a thin smile and pulled the door open, leaving the lab and crossing to the door of his office. Hermione waited an extra second after the door creaked open before she followed him quietly, lingering off to the side outside of Blaise’s door.

“Draco, to what do I owe the surprise? Aren’t you working on your brew sessions? Where’s Granger?”

“She’s in my lab,” he said, glancing at the door but staying put, “Just came in to see how you’re doing. I’m quite looking forward to the party tonight; getting everyone together, celebrating the success of the investigation and the holidays. Are you going back home for the holidays?”

Blaise was looking at him strangely, Draco was normally much more concise and direct, especially in the office during work hours and it seemed he was just there to chat, “I am. I’ll take a portkey next Thursday to meet my parents in Switzerland. They wanted to go up to the mountains to get away from city life for the holidays.”

“Sounds lovely. Family time; very important this time of year.”

“I assume you’re not going back to the manor?”

“No, no of course not. Lucius and I would just end up having another row like the last time I tried to stop and see mother. I was just writing her earlier, you know, to explain why I’m not coming and requesting that she please stop asking because it never gets easier to say no. We’ll reconvene after the new year for dinner in Diagon Alley. It’s our new tradition, but it’s tiring sometimes, to find things to talk about that don’t involve my father.”

“You’re quite chatty today,” Blaise noted, looking confused, but amused at his friend, who usually kept these kinds of thoughts bottled and stored deep within, locked in a vault and surrounded by a heavy, reinforced wall of indifference.

“Just a lot on the mind today,” Draco said before he paused, shaking his head a little, his shoulders drooping slightly, “Ah, bullocks.”

“What’s up, mate?”

“Bad tweak to the potion,” Draco sighed.

Blaise laughed, “Did you take Social Tonic? Is that what’s happening?”

“Yes. Tried to tweak it to be less clingy, turns out it impacts the speech filter. Going to have to think this one through. On the plus side, I was able to pull away from Granger—”

“You mean where you _really_ wanted to be,” Blaise interjected but Draco ignored him.

“—Without being overly clingy, so it did improve what I was hoping it would, but this alternative is also not ideal. Might be able to decrease that just a little more and then add something to counteract the filter though,” he was half talking to himself as he retreated for the door.

“Glad you stopped in to chat,” Blaise grinned at his back.

Draco waved over his shoulder, “See you at the party later.”

Outside the door he jumped a little as he noticed Hermione leaning against the wall.

“Were you eavesdropping?” He said dryly.

“No, technically I was observing and documenting results,” she said, the hint of a smile playing at her lips.

“Well there’s obviously some things to work on with this version of the brew,” he said, trying to ignore the fact that he’d rambled about wanting to sit there and talk with her, as well as the fact that she’d definitely overheard Blaise note that he knew Draco would rather be in the lab with her than in his office with him.

“Yes, but you know I feel like I’ve read about something recently that had to do with speech,” Hermione said, allowing him to avoid the awkward acknowledgment as she followed him back down the hall to his office, “I bet the filtering would be easier to tweak than trying to find another way to control the clinginess.”

“Alright, get back to me with what you found,” he nodded as they closed the door to the lab again to begin their cleanup, “I think we’ll need to decrease the Infusion of Wormwood a little more as well. I know it’ll only make the filter worse but I think that although the clinginess was better, it still needs a little work. A tenth of an ounce less should do the trick, and then we’ll add in the counter to that.”

The conversation stayed professional as they put away vials and sent brewing tools to the sink to be scrubbed. By the time they left the lab another half an hour later, he seemed more relaxed at the idea that she was going to let his rambling statements stay in the lab. And she might… or she might bring them up later, she hadn’t decided yet. It _had_ been quite interesting to hear what that letter he’d been writing was about.

Draco looked down at his watch as they left the building for the streets of London, “Should have just enough time to grab my suit and get ready, so I’ll see you back here soon for the party,” he gave her an inconspicuous wink and she laughed lightly as they split ways.

“Good luck. See you, Draco.”

She returned home, hanging her jacket at the door and slipping off her work shoes as she subconsciously started humming the latest Celestina Warbeck hit. She pulled a bagged dress from her closet before directing it with her wand to hang on her four poster bed. The bag unzipped and she walked over, running her hands smoothly over the fabric underneath with a small smile. They may not have talked about their _situation_ yet, but she had a feeling this dress might spark something in his brain to remind him of their pending conversation. She hoped, at least, or else perhaps she'd have to accept that he'd locked that away with the other things he kept behind his defenses, guarded and unacknowledged in order to focus on his potions; his life's work. He'd told her, after all, that those were his priorities. 

She sighed, pulling her shirt over her head and trying to banish those thoughts from her mind. Tonight was a night to celebrate, and everything else would be dealt with in time.

O-o-o-o-o-o-o

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed that chapter!! As promised, I wanted to give you a little more information on the surprise I've got in the works for you! Our next chapter will be the Draconis Laboratories holiday party, and with it, will be a commissioned piece of fan art specifically made for the scene! I can't wait to share it with you all! I'll be posting the next chapter just as soon as I've got the final piece to go with it :)


	14. The Holiday Party

As Hermione walked back into Draconis Laboratories at eight, she was met by a completely transformed space. The normally bright and minimalistic atrium that she’d left not two hours ago was now lit with orbs of twinkling fairy dust strung along the vaulted ceiling and Ever-Burning candles placed along the open tables. At least ten large, fully decorated Christmas trees lined the walls, which seemed to bring a certain warmth to the pristine room tonight.

Her eyes roamed over the details, locating the House Elf chef station that sat in the front corner of the atrium, as well as the fully stocked bar that encompassed the back corner against the stone accent wall by the fireplace. Each surface was lined with garland that looked like it may be housing a few stray twinkling fairies, their wings visible every now and again when their tiny heads poked out from the greenery. As a finishing effect, the ceiling was raining down thick snowflakes that disappeared just overhead, though the floor looked as if it were covered in a thin layer of snow; it seemed to be a charm, however, because she walked through it unhindered on her way to greet Harry and Pansy, who were standing by the bar. 

“Granger!” Pansy waved as she approached, “So glad you could join tonight.”

“Evening, Pansy,” Hermione allowed herself to be pulled into a kiss on each cheek from the brunette, “I can’t believe how fast this was pulled together.”

“I just coordinate, Susan and Theo are our amazing decorators,” Pansy said, “We let them do this every year. The whole staff looks forward to it so I’m glad we didn’t have to cancel like we originally thought we would.”

“You look nice,” Harry commented as he took a sip from the cocktail he’d just received, “New dress?”

“I figured something new wouldn't hurt,” she shrugged with a small smile.

“I’m sure Draco will give it all the attention it deserves,” Pansy said innocently as Hermione sputtered for a moment.

“I — it doesn’t need any specific attention, I just thought it was a nice dress.”

“Sure, whatever you say,” Pansy winked, turning back to Harry, whose hand was glued to the waist of her skin-tight crimson gown, which included a decently promiscuous slit up the side that ended somewhere around mid thigh, “Did you tell her all about Montmartre yet?”

“She’s been impossible to catch this week,” he shook his head.

“Well for the best seeker Hogwarts had ever seen, I’d have thought you’d be better at things that were difficult to catch.”

“Well I caught you, didn’t I?”

“Yes,” she sighed, “I am a bit out of your league aren’t I?”

“Completely.”

Her lips curled up wickedly as her thick eyelashes batted at him, “Gosh you know how to compliment a girl.”

“Well it was lovely to see you both as always,” Hermione said dryly, “I’m going to order myself a drink and… walk around.”

“I think she means look for Draco,” Pansy said in a faux whisper to Harry before turning back to her, “We’ll tell you about Paris when you make your way back.”

“See you soon, Hermione,” Harry waved with an airiness in his voice she’d heard seldom before. His life had quieted, of course, since Hogwarts, but his burdens seemed nonexistent when he was with Pansy; like he was the most normal, love struck boy in the world. It made her heart swell even if it was mildly nauseating.

She made her way to an opening at the end of the bar and ordered a glass of champagne from Lena, one of the house elf sous chefs that she would consider the most energetic of the bunch. Lena was always running to and fro fetching ingredients or utensils, a look of determination embedded in her features, but never without a friendly greeting.

Draco walked into the atrium, taking in the decor as well as the sea of chattering employees gathered throughout the room. His eyes continued scanning until they found what he wouldn’t even deny they were looking for. His gaze landed on a flash of gold from her dress catching the dim lighting overhead and was held by the curly brown hair half pinned back to keep out of her face and flowing down her exposed back. The dress itself was a stunner, at least from this angle he gathered as much; floor length black silk that hugged her loosely, a deep V in the back of the dress outlined by a thin strip of metallic gold and embellished with impeccably sewn embroidery. Her bare skin seemed as if it were begging him to come over and his lip pulled up subconsciously as he made his way towards her. 

“You didn’t want to wear that to the lab today?” He quipped as he leaned his hand on the bar next to her.

Her heart fluttered at the sound of his voice, but she shot him a cool look, “Didn’t want to trip over it while I followed you on your social endeavors.”

He gave an impressed huff, “It’s quite beautiful — the dress.”

Hermione accepted the champagne flute that Lena had sent over and turned more fully towards him, “The dress says thank you.”

She was feisty tonight and he very much enjoyed it, “I see you’re celebrating with champagne,” he said generically to give himself a few extra seconds to take in the full view of her ensemble. Her makeup was light as always, but her lips were stained a deeper shade of red tonight. The front of the dress boasted a conservative boat neck, also lined in metallic gold, and was sleeveless. She’d paired it with gold earrings that dropped a good few inches to a single diamond at the ends. He tried to keep his eyes straight ahead but it was difficult to keep them from glancing down to make sure he didn’t miss a detail. In his glance something else caught his eye, however, a bit of a fuzzy, almost-but-not-quite invisible outline on her arm, and he registered immediately what it was — a charm to mask the etching that lay beneath it; the etching carved by his Auntie Bella. He refocused on her as she took a sip of her drink and tried to clear those thoughts from his mind. She was obviously trying to cover it up for the evening as to not be reminded of it so he should let her have that.

“—I assumed whatever champagne you would have picked would be a fancy one.”

He realized he’d missed whatever she’d responded with first, though it could be inferred so he responded in stride, “I do have impeccable taste.”

She couldn’t help the soft laugh that escaped her lips as she brought the glass back to them again.

“How do you like the decor?” He asked, still trying to find the lightness in his mood that he’d come into the evening with.

“It’s unreal,” she looked around again, noticing things she hadn’t before like the cherubs floating joyfully in each corner of the room, “I still can’t believe Theo and Susan pulled this off in just a couple of hours."

“They do it every year so they’ve gotten quite good at it,” he looked around with her, trying to give it the appreciation it so deserved before Lena’s voice redirected his gaze.

“Mr. Draco, I poured your favorite champagne,” Lena said excitedly as the glass hovered in front of him.

“Thank you, Lena,” he grabbed the glass and raised it to her as she squeaked happily before running off to take the next order, “Have you gotten a chance to talk to anyone yet?” He turned back to Hermione, taking a sip and feeling the bubbles tingle on his lips.

“Just Harry and Pansy when I first arrived,” she gestured over to where they were standing, now engaged in conversation with Blaise and Cristiano.

“How long did they go without making you uncomfortable?”

“About three minutes.”

He nodded, “Sounds about right, shall we?” 

She followed him from the bar and over to Theo, who was there with his wife, and Adrien who was talking with them.

“Hermione!” Theo greeted her as they walked over, “How’d we do?”

“Looks magical, Theo. Some really impressive charms, honestly.”

“The cherubs are Susan’s specialty, but the snow was mine,” he looked up to admire his own work.

“At least you’re humble about it,” Draco quipped.

“That comes from his Slytherin qualities,” Lisa raised her eyebrows at Theo playfully. 

Theo grinned at her for a moment before turning back to Hermione, “Hermione, this is my wife Lisa, I’m not sure if you met at Hogwarts.”

“I think we had Arithmancy together,” Hermione nodded warmly, reaching out to shake her hands as they reacquainted, “Nice to see you again, Lisa.”

“We did. That was always my favorite class. Professor Vector was truly underrated.”

“I found him decently engaging. But it was a higher level class so that’s to be expected,” Draco commented.

“That’s right, you were in Arithmancy also. Back of the class, if I remember correctly?”

“Not many other Slytherins took the class besides Theo and I and we were the last ones there on the first day. We got stuck in the back rather than choosing it.”

“Too bad we weren’t friends then,” Hermione said casually, “I could have saved you a prime spot in the front row next to me.”

“Would have made it easier to see around your hand that was always in the air,” he winked at her.

She laughed with a lazy roll of her eyes, almost impressed with the quickness of his retort, “So Lisa, what do you do now?”

“I work in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. I mostly do a lot of research for the investigators but I’m currently helping to rewrite some policies for Auror mission procedures and I’m really enjoying that.”

They stood with the group for a while before a few more people joined — most of the executives — and eventually Draco respectfully bowed out of the conversation to make his rounds to greet the rest of the employees. He’d returned a short time later while Hermione was mid-conversation with Adrien, broken off from the group.

“I brought some hors d'oeuvres and Lena will be sending over another round of champagne,” he said as he handed Hermione a small plate with an array of aperitifs, grabbing her empty glass from her hand and banishing it to the bar.

“Thank you,” she said with a small smile at the gesture.

“Didn’t want you to miss out,” he shrugged, “Beaker’s stuffed mushrooms are unparalleled. Now, what did I interrupt?”

“I was just telling Hermione about some of the more unique classes at Durmstrang,” Adrien said, already holding his own plate of snacks. He didn’t drink, but he quite enjoyed the food at these functions.

“Any he told you about interest you?” Draco asked her as he took a bite of the mini quiche in his hand, their champagnes zooming over to hover at their sides while they ate.

“Yes, I think Survival Sorcery sounded like an enthralling class, actually; A basic survival class with magic and charms. Quite useful.”

“They offered very practical classes at Durmstrang,” Draco nodded, “Wanted to prepare you to be independent as much as preparing you for the workforce.”

“Viktor had mentioned there were dueling classes as well — not just a club, but required classes?” Hermione inquired with Adrien, ignoring Draco's side-eye at her mention of Viktor Krum.

“Yes, we learned battle spells and more advanced protection charms in Dueling. We didn’t have a Dark Arts class, as has always been rumored, but it was a topic that was covered in Dueling.”

Hermione felt a shiver run down her arms thinking about the unforgivable curses lesson with fake-Moody, “What was that like?”

“It was truly theoretical,” Adrien said with a sigh, “We weren’t using dark spells against each other. But in order to defend against dark magic, they felt we should understand it; from incantation to after effects, so we studied it. Makes you appreciate the art in order to better defend against it, I think. Perhaps that’s just because it’s how I learned defense, however.”

“So what brought you to London?”

“Just Draco,” he said with a faint smile, “He reached out to me with this job opportunity and I didn't give it a second thought. I owe a lot to Draco, coming over here to lend my services was the least I could do.”

“For a fair salary, I would say,” Draco cut in.

“Yes, of course. But I told you I would do it for much less.”

“And I wouldn’t hear it.”

For a moment, Hermione almost hoped Draco would get pulled away for a minute so she could follow up on Adrien’s comment on owing a lot to Draco, but she didn’t want to pry in front of him. She probably shouldn’t pry at all, Draco might just tell her about it on his own eventually.

“Hermione!” Pansy called, waving her over.

“Excuse me,” she grabbed her champagne glass from the air and stepped away as Draco and Adrien began recalling some of their seventh year professors.

“I was just about to tell Susan about Paris and I didn’t want to tell the story twice.”

Hermione gave Harry an amused look as he grinned back at her, “Alright, I’m hooked, let’s hear it.”

“Great,” Pansy said as she grabbed a floating cocktail midair before she dove into her story, Susan already grinning as she awaited the tale that was sure to be told in detail.

Hermione glanced back over her shoulder where Draco was still talking with Adrien. As if feeling her gaze, his eyes shifted slightly over Adrien’s shoulder and caught hers. He gave her a very inconspicuous, but oh so Draco-esque, smirk and she felt herself smile instinctively back before she turned to tune into Pansy and Harry’s trip from the weekend.

The night progressed with drinks and stories and people moving from one group to another, to forming a bigger group, to breaking off. An hour or two into the night, Draco had surprised everyone with an appearance by Celestina Warbeck. — “A good friend of mother’s; happy to do a family friend a favor,” he had noted. — Everyone had danced, ate and drank until the employees slowly started to filter out. Hermione had noticed that Draco had made sure to pop into her conversations here and there, and while Celestina was singing, he stood just a little closer than normal as they swayed to the music.

A small group was left at the end, sitting around one of the linen draped tables by the dessert station. Harry was mid-story about a charmed sink faucet his Auror team had been called in to investigate. It had been spitting out black liquid and the older witch that lived at the residence was convinced the liquid was cursed.

“So we cast some standard detection charms of course, nothing unusual is popping up on our radars, so we take a sample back to the Ministry and lo and behold it's SQUID ink,” the group bust into laughter, “She thought the damn thing was cursed; swore it was going to be the death of her and it’s blasted squid ink that we sent a whole team to investigate.”

“But Harry, how…?” Hermione subsided her laughter just long enough to get the question out.

“Apparently her grandson thought it would be a funny prank. The goon of a kid finally admitted it when we went back to give her the results. I swear you could hear her yelling at him clearer than a banshee even after we left the house.”

Even Draco was chuckling at the story.

“Oh Merlin, alright well I think that’s a good one to call it a night on,” Theo said as he caught his own breath and stifled a yawn, “Lisa, are you ready to head out?”

“Yes, I think I had too much mead.”

“I’m going to head out as well,” Susan said with heavy eyes, “This was the best party yet, I think.”

Everyone started standing and gathering their things; wandering around to find purses and shoes, and leaving one by one. Hermione dawdled a few extra moments as she collected her things, hoping to get a chance to thank Draco for inviting her and have a proper goodbye.

She could see Harry waiting for her out of the corner of her eye, likely assuming she’d walk with him and Pansy back to their flats. She realized she probably couldn’t avoid it without a blatant hint that she’d like to stay and talk to Draco so she held up her finger to signal she’d be right there and sighed as she hastily grabbed her jacket from its hanger.

“Harry, darling, can we go back to my place tonight?” She heard Pansy croon and her ears perked.

“Oh, sure!” Harry said brightly, “I do like your bed much better than mine.”

“And I like having you in it.”

“Hermione, I’m going to Pansy’s, are you going to apparate home?” Harry asked, trying to cover his bases.

“If not, I’ll walk with her,” Draco said casually as he walked back into the Atrium from a quick stop to his office.

“Alright, goodbye, great party, Draco!” Harry called as Pansy slipped her hand into his and pulled him towards the door.

“Goodnight you two,” Pansy called in a singsong voice and as Hermione lifted her head to wave, Pansy winked at her before looking back and forth between her and Draco.

“Um, goodnight,” Hermione called back as they left.

“Can I help you with that?” Draco asked once they were alone, gesturing to her jacket.

“Oh, yes, that would be nice,” she said, feeling her heart rate already starting to increase. 

“So would you like a nice walk home or were you going to take the easy way out?” He asked as he held the jacket for her to slip on.

“Seems like a nice night for a walk,” she said evenly as she turned back to face him.

“Shall we, then?”

Her mouth felt dry and she just nodded as their eyes locked. It was just for a moment but it felt longer for some reason. And then he turned, offering his arm to her as she took it and he led her out the door.

They spent the walk talking about the party casually as Hermione willed herself not to overthink anything. He was just walking her home, sure her arm was hooked through his, but she had heels on and he could easily just be trying to assist her. They hadn’t talked about anything since the last comment he’d made in his office weeks ago about them revisiting the logistics of their prior encounter. And sure the potion had shown her that he clearly wanted to spend time with her, but again it didn't mean his position on wanting to pursue something, physical or otherwise, couldn’t have changed. Maybe that’s why he hadn’t brought it up again; because he realized it wasn’t in their best interest. Perhaps he was trying to establish their friendship as just that, a friendship. And that was for the best, of course, because they worked so well together and it would be a shame to jeopardize that. She’d be perfectly happy with their comfortable friendship.

“So you looked curious when Adrien mentioned his reason for coming out to Draconis Labs,” Draco broke her out of her thoughts more fully.

“I think it’s natural to be curious,” she shrugged, “You obviously don’t have to elaborate if you don’t want to. I wasn’t going to push it.”

“I’m sure you weren’t,” he chuckled, “But I felt I could add some color because in my opinion Adrien blows his gratitude out of proportion, I was just simply _there_ during a difficult time for him. He’d lost his father two years prior and everyone at school had deduced that Igor had been targeted because he’d been a member of the Death Eaters. I think he felt a lot of guilt over having an association to the Dark Lord. When I came in I was actually a little nervous he’d hate me for what I was so I tried to explain my motivations behind my place in the Death Eaters and he never hesitated to believe me or empathize. I think he felt I was possibly one of the only people around that understood what he was dealing with to some degree. I don’t open up to many people, but Adrien brings it out of me. He was as much of a godsend to me as he thinks I was to him.”

“Sometimes just having someone who understands makes all the difference,” she said with a small smile, “It may not have felt like you were doing much, but to him I can see how profound it would have been. That’s why Harry, Ron and I will always be so close, we understand each other and we were there for each other during those pivotal life moments. You were there for Adrien and I’m sure he’ll never forget that.”

Draco nodded slowly, “I think he just needed to work through some things to get to the realization that we can’t take on the guilt or responsibilities of others. It was his father that made the mistake all those years ago to follow the Dark Lord; a mistake that he tried to rectify in the end that cost him his life but earned him the forgiveness of his son for not returning. Adrien just hadn’t released the burdens he’d taken on because of his father’s choices.”

“Same could be said for you and Lucius.”

“Not entirely, I made the decision to follow them. I may have been motivated by my father, but the resulting choice was mine, and mine alone. I can’t pawn that off or I could lose the much-deserved guilt and remorse I have that drives my ambitions now. It’s easy to say ‘it wasn’t totally my fault’ and feel internally more at ease by that, but it’s more appropriate to say ‘I made a bad choice and I’ll learn from that and do better’.”

“You’d be a decent motivational speaker, you know,” she quipped.

“I wouldn’t,” he gave a dark huff, “Not positive-minded enough.”

She considered him, “No, I guess you’re not. You’re a bit hard on yourself, really. But you’re honest and introspective. I think that’s important. It connects with people.”

He gave her a look like he’d like to keep disagreeing, but decided otherwise, “You’re more kind than you should be.”

“So what about Adrien’s mother?” she asked, ignoring his comment.

“Died when he was young. He thinks she was the reason Igor renounced the Dark Arts and gave names for his freedom. You see, she was never involved with any of it and was distraught when Igor was sent to Azkaban; thought there had to be a mistake. Adrien said it took him time after that to get back in her good graces. But he thinks the memory of her was why he never went back when the Dark Lord returned. He didn’t want to let her down even after she was gone.”

They’d reached her flat and were standing at the bottom of the steps.

“That’s wonderful Igor had that influence, even though it obviously didn’t end well for him. It says a lot that he didn’t go back,” she looked up the steps to her door, “This doesn’t seem like the right place to leave the evening,” she said thoughtfully, “Would you like to come in for a nightcap?”

His lip curled up at the invitation, “How could I say no to that?” He followed her up the stairs where she tapped the door with her wand as it clicked, and she pushed it open.

He hadn’t had much of a chance to inspect her flat the last time he’d been inside, so he looked around more thoroughly as she closed the door behind them, shrugging off her jacket and flicking her wand to send it over to the coat rack.

“Can I take your coat?” She asked and he unbuttoned it with a nod, handing it off to her as his eyes roamed the photograph-lined walls, took in the folded blankets that sat just right on the back of the couch, glazed over the flawlessly organized bookshelf, and paused on the tastefully decorated Christmas tree in the corner. The room’s ambience was quite calm, yet warm, and he wouldn’t have expected anything different.

“The tree looks nice,” he commented, “Very clean with the gold theme and white lights.”

“I always preferred the simple look,” she said with a smile, “Set it up last weekend. It’s mostly ornaments from my travels. Not always easy to find something gold, but it adds to the excitement of finding the right souvenir when I do.”

“Always looking for a challenge,” he said with a glance, “So do I get the full tour?”

“Not much more to see, honestly, but follow me,” she said as she walked past him through an opening to the kitchen. As he took a step forward to follow her, a flash of orange caught his eye as it darted across the doorway. Curious, he continued forward until he’d entered the next room, scanning it until his gaze landed on a large fluffy orange cat in the corner, sitting quite still and staring at him with a distrustful look on its face.

“You’ve got a cat?” 

“Yes,” she smiled, “This is Crookshanks. I’ve had him since third year. He’s sweet, but a bit protective.” 

“I can tell.”

“Give him some time, he’ll warm up,” Hermione said with a laugh as she tilted some of the neatly organized bottles towards herself from the small bar counter across the room.

Draco finally pulled his gaze to inspect the rest of the room, which was no different than the last, the neutral tones were tranquil, each item had its place and the counters looked clean enough to eat off of, “I like the style here,” he noted with an impressed nod.

“I did too, that’s why I’m neighbors with Harry,” she said as she grabbed two crystal glasses from the shelves above her, “Icevodka alright? I’m afraid I haven’t been to the store lately to restock so options are limited.”

“Icevodka sounds lovely.”

She grabbed a few items down and rummaged for a few more in the fridge as Draco inspected the stove at a closer range, “Really quality appliances they offer, as well.”

She laughed as she sliced a lemon in half, “Did you just want to come in to rate my apartment?”

“No, no, just in my nature is all. And what are you making over there?” He asked as he walked over a bit closer, sliding his hands into his pockets and leaning against the counter for a better look.

“I call it a Lemon Pop,” she said matter-of-factly, “It’s Icevodka, seltzer, fresh squeezed lemon and just a dash of honey; Mint leaves for garnish.”

“Fancy,” he commented with a _‘not-bad’_ look on his face, “So is this what you do when you come home from work?”

“Hardly,” she said with a look, “It’s just my go-to when I have guests. It’s light and refreshing. Pairs well with five glasses of champagne.”

“Then it will be delectable,” he said with a wry smile that caught hers.

She stuck a small mint leaf at the top of the glass and handed it to Draco, “Cheers.”

“Cheers,” he echoed, clinking his glass against hers before taking a sip, a small puff of frosty mist streaming from his mouth as he exhaled, “Mmm. Alright, good pick. Though I will say I much prefer the burn of Firewhiskey to the chill of Icevodka.”

“Well you get what I have, unfortunately,” she responded airily, walking back towards the living room, giving Draco another full view of her exposed back in that dress. 

He grinned to himself, quite pleased with his current situation, though trying to remind himself that they hadn’t discussed anything further on the subject of boundaries. He followed her after a second, taking a seat on the far side of the couch when they reached the living room, his arm draping along the back as she leaned, quite goddess-like, against the arm on the other side. Her face glowed as the light hit it just right, and her eyes had flickered up to his with a look that almost made him set his glass down right then and there and give in. But he restrained himself, taking another sip of his lemon pop and leaning back to embark on conversation and see where the night led them as Crookshanks settled on the floor at Hermione's feet.

O-o-o-o-o-o-o

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy holidays from all of us at Draconis Laboratories! Hope you enjoyed this chapter and the special fan art I had commissioned for the scene! Would love to hear your thoughts or reviews :) Next chapter should be up near the weekend!


	15. Lemon Pops

“So now you know more about me after the war,” Draco stated, trying to pick up some semblance of their prior conversation as he settled into his seat on her couch, head loose from the champagne, but focused on the woman across from him, “Tell me more about the years in between the war and when we… reconnected.”

“Well,” she sighed, trying to decide where to start as she took a sip of her lemon pop, “The summer after the Battle, I set off to look for my parents. I had…” she paused; she hated talking about this, but she also knew he hated talking about everything he’d told her so she needed to be as open as he was, “I had erased their memories after sixth year. I made it so they didn’t even know they had a daughter and I implanted in their minds this life dream to move to Australia.” She watched as a look of confusion overtook Draco’s features as he wondered what in the world could have driven her to do such a thing, “I wanted to protect them, you see. I thought if I erased myself from their lives, they wouldn’t worry and they could just go to Australia, far from danger, and hide without even knowing they were hiding.”

“And did it work? The memory charm? That’s some advanced magic. Especially for a seventeen year-old.” She could hear the awe in his voice, though he tried to mask it. She wasn’t sure, however, if it was awe at the magic or awe at what lengths she’d gone to.

“Worked perfectly,” she said, a bit emotionless as to stem the pain that came with it all, “I went the whole year — and more — not knowing if they were alright, or where they’d ended up.”

“Granger I — I had no idea,” he said, speechless for one of the first times Hermione could remember.

“Not exactly workplace conversation,” she said with a crooked smile, “So after the war was over, I set out to find them. I thought it’d be easy; that they’d be more traceable, but they weren’t. It took me… years. I would take one vacation a year from work for three weeks and go to Australia and find a new angle to search from. I finally did locate them and I lifted the charms, which took most of that three week holiday in itself.”

“Well they must have been really happy to see you again after so long.”

“Angry would be a better word. In their eyes I’d taken years of their life with their daughter away.”

“Regardless,” he shook his head, looking shocked at her alternative.

She sighed, “I’d sent them away when they thought maybe I’d needed them most — you know, that feeling parents have that they want to protect you from the world. But there’s nothing they could have done if they’d been here; this wasn’t their war and they’d have just been targets. It took a lot of strained conversations for them to accept that, or at least understand my perspective on it enough to forgive me. I thought I was doing the right thing — I still do think I did the right thing — but it’s hard for them to wrap their head around without knowing our world and how utterly vulnerable they would have been to dark magic.”

“So are things better… now? I know you mentioned you’d see them around the holidays.”

“Yes, loads better,” she nodded, “It took time, but they realized the important thing was that we had the opportunity _now_ to rebuild a relationship and spend the time together. We go on a long weekend holiday once a year together in the summer and I visit at New Years. They’re certainly much more independent than they used to be. They like Christmas for their ski trips to the Alps and I enjoy spending it with the Weasleys. And then I come over for a nice New Year’s Day dinner and we share our stories. But we have that dedicated time that we spend together and it means the world to all of us.”

“It still must have been difficult to go through that uncertain period with them.”

“It was, but I held hope that they’d come around eventually.”

He could tell she’d said all she had in her on the subject and he pivoted, “So you went back to Hogwarts that year after the Battle?”

“Mmhm, I went back to Hogwarts with a fair number of our old classmates. Some took the degree even with the year with the Carrows, and I don’t blame them, they were there and they certainly earned the right to leave the school. But some stayed to redo, and some of us returned from being on the run. I was dating Ron at the time, of course, but he and Harry had gone to the Ministry already to start training with the Auror department. We didn’t see each other much that year, maybe once a month on the weekends. Honestly I think it’s why we dated as long as we did. Once we were in the real world together, per se, it was quite obvious that it wasn’t going to work out.”

Draco huffed out a laugh, “Not surprised, you two were always at each other’s throats.”

“And so were we, back in school,” she said, eyebrows raised as she took another sip.

“Is that your way of telling me I don’t stand a chance?” He quipped lightly, though time felt like it jolted to a crawl as he awaited her response.

She considered him, a small smile playing at her lips, “You’re not the boy you were at Hogwarts, Draco. I think we both know that.”

He liked that answer. It was cryptic, but telling; sassy, but sweet, “No, I promise you I’m not.”

Hermione drained the last bit of her drink, her lips tingling against the frost, “Would you like another?”

“Yes, thank you,” he handed her his glass.

She returned a few minutes later with two full glasses and handed him one, settling herself closer to the middle cushion this time as she turned her body towards him, elbow propped against the back of the couch, not far from his hand that was still draped comfortably.

“So what comes after Hogwarts?” He asked, enjoying her new position.

“After Hogwarts I started at the Ministry and I think I’ve told you the rest from there,” she said, “Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures to the Minister’s Office. Truly not much else outside of work.”

“Except those six mystery months with Viktor Krum,” he said coolly.

“They were not mystery months,” she laughed, “And you sound jealous by the way,” she paused a moment, “It’s a decent look on you actually; humbling.”

“I’m not _jealous_ , just curious,” he shrugged, though the nonchalance was an obvious facade, “Not many girls can tell you about dating an International Quidditch Star.”

“Viktor and I had been friends for years,” she said, “It really wasn’t a big thing. We gave it a shot, I enjoyed spending time with him, but our relationship lacked depth. His life was quidditch. He enjoyed leisure reading and we could talk about that, but he didn’t have a passion for continued learning or theorizing philosophy or my Ministry work,” she sighed, “Viktor is a lovely person and we care about each other very much, but we just didn’t have an intellectual connection.”

“Romantic, though?” He couldn't help but ask.

“Now what do you want me to say to that?” She chided with a look.

“I want you to say, ‘ _oh no, he was horrible in bed too,’_ ” he shrugged.

She felt herself blush, “Viktor was a very good _friend_ and our connection has always been strong on that friend level. Unfortunately, we didn’t seem to find much connection on _any_ other level,” she finally said.

A smug grin etched itself onto Draco’s lips, “Sorry to hear that.”

“You look like it.”

“Okay, I’m not sorry to hear that,” the look on his face didn’t change.

“And why would it matter to _you_ besides your obvious desire to make me slightly uncomfortable?”

“I guess I like knowing there are things other wizards have seemed to disappoint in that… I wouldn’t.”

Hermione gawked for a moment at the blatant remark before she tried to turn it into a haughty look, “Well you sure are confident tonight, aren’t you?”

“You keep feeding me alcohol, so yes,” he was enjoying this immensely. And he could tell a part of her was too.

“Me?! You were the one ordering more rounds of champagne at the party,” she countered with a laugh, slapping his arm lightly.

“You were our guest, I wanted you to feel catered to,” he said as though that were obvious.

“I think you just wanted a reason to keep coming back to chat.”

“Maybe I did,” he allowed, “I don’t think you minded.”

“Maybe I didn’t,” she replied in a similar tone.

“Maybe we both just know what we want but that we can’t have it. And maybe we both think that’s a little unfair.”

She felt her face getting warm again. The topic was finally broached. Everything she should respond with was running through her head; how even if it was unfair, it just had to be the way it was, how they were professionals, how they needed to accept that work came first; how another thing that was a little unfair was that they had put this conversation aside for the last three weeks. But what came out was something entirely different.

“And what is it that you think we both want?” She decided to play his Slytherin game of casual hypotheticals.

He set his half-empty glass on the coffee table and leaned in closer, as though he just wanted to discuss a private matter. She didn’t move, but he wasn’t _really_ encroaching on her space at that point so she didn’t see a reason to. She also didn’t _want_ to, but she wouldn’t fully acknowledge that. 

He looked at her, a spark igniting behind his eyes, a smile still at his lips, “I think we both want to feel what we did three weeks ago.”

She felt like the whole world could have stopped in that moment and she’d have been just fine sitting there looking into his eyes and seeing every ounce of longing that she felt, “And what are we supposed to do about that?” She said in a quiet, yet questioning voice.

“I’m not sure, Granger. You see, I made the move last time and we both acknowledged that it was out of line. So I’m afraid I’m not allowed to cross the line twice,” his voice was low and his eyes glanced down to her lips and back, waiting patiently to see what she would do.

She swallowed hard. It was honestly a fair point. But it put the decision on her. She knew she shouldn’t. She knew she should lean back, put distance between them, clear her mind and remind them both that they’d agreed this wasn’t a simple matter of giving in or not. But those thoughts were drowned out by the sound of her own pounding heart and distracted by her breath that had just caught in her throat at the electricity in his gaze. In that moment she realized there was nothing in the world she wanted more than to throw rationality right into the trash and be there in the moment taking what she couldn’t stop thinking about. She finally felt herself nod in response to his statement.

She lifted her hand slowly but decisively to the back of his neck, her fingers moving softly over his warm skin, “Does this count as making the move?” She said, trying to come off confidently despite the sensory overload happening inside of her.

“Almost,” he said with a smirk, “I think that’s considered toeing the line. You’ve really got to cross it to be the one making the move.”

She looked at him another second, mustering all of her courage and simultaneously expelling all of her doubts before she leaned in, eyes closing as she pulled him to her, and kissed him, her bottom lip catching between his. She felt his hand move back into her hair, balling it lightly into his fist before letting it fall as his hand moved to the side of her neck, sending chills down her arms. Her lips parted and his tongue slipped welcomingly into her mouth. 

Now she’d kissed a respectable number of boys by this time in her life, but she could say with fair certainty that no one else’s kiss had made her want to vanish the clothes right off her body quite as Draco’s did. Their tongues brushed lightly against each other before their lips pressed together again. Her hand had moved down to the collar of his shirt, gripping it tightly before he pulled back a few inches, the smug look he’d held before had been replaced with something more akin to desire and without breaking eye contact his free hand grabbed the glass from hers and set it on the table before he leaned back in and kissed her again. It was slow and tantalizing and the thoughts she’d had on their prior encounter about knowing they couldn't do this and that it should stop were nothing but a mere memory. 

This was all she wanted. Going the last three weeks not knowing if they’d even bring it back up, much less be connected like this again had been torture even as she reassured herself it was for the best. She could say now that it was not for the best. _This_ was. This feeling; this moment, there wasn’t a thing in the world that would make her second guess it. Everything else would figure itself out in time. But _this_ made anything that came after, worth it.

“You know,” she said between kisses, “I didn’t get to give you the _full_ tour.”

He pulled back slightly to make sure he was reading the comment correctly before he nodded, “Right. Wouldn’t want to miss anything.”

She stood leading the way through the only other door in the apartment as he followed her, enjoying one last view of the back of the dress, appreciating it even more now that he was picturing running his hands down the contours underneath.

“And this is my bedroom,” Hermione said to fill the silence of her excited nerves as he shut the door behind him before Crookshanks could follow them in.

“Funny, I half expected it to just be a home office.”

“Shut up,” she laughed as she pulled him by the shirt towards her, capturing his lips again as his arms wrapped firmly around her, his hands landing, quite purposefully, on her bare skin. His fingers were cold from the icy cocktail, but they sent a fire through her as they traced the outline of the fabric at the bottom of the V. 

His hands found the zipper on her dress and started pulling it down, slow enough where she had the opportunity to acknowledge what he was doing and decide if she wanted to change her mind, but instead, she pulled back and her lip quirked up into a very uncharacteristic grin usually reserved for Slytherins themselves as her hands started on the buttons of his shirt. He leaned down to her again as his expression matched hers; he was starting to understand what she meant when she’d said she wasn’t as innocent as everyone thought she was. 

The buttons unfastened easily this time and before she had a chance to think on it, she was already roaming his chest, taking in the softness of his skin around the protruding scars she’d noticed last time, though it certainly didn’t take away from anything with the feeling of his heart beating furiously beneath his chest as they kissed deeply again.

His hands rose to cup her face before they moved electrifyingly down her neck, taking the fabric of her dress with them as he slipped the sleeves over her shoulder. They fell smoothly down her arms, gaining momentum as the fabric gathered and flowed almost dreamily to the floor. It pooled in a pile of silk at her feet and Draco relished in the unobstructed view of her naked chest and the thin lace cloth that remained the only thing intact on her bottom half. She looked quite unabashed as his eyes returned to hers and he kissed her hungrily, gripping her hips firmly as her hands moved to the button on his pants. She took a step back as she maneuvered, pulling him with her. The rest of his clothing was discarded haphazardly on the walk to her bed in between more snogging, and in the blink of an eye they were on her bed in their underwear.

Hermione, out of the corner of her eye, caught a glimpse of something strikingly black glimmering up at her from his forearm as he hovered above her. She knew what it was, of course, and used all of her strength not to give it any of her attention, rationalizing that she’d known it was there and that this didn’t change anything; though she wouldn’t deny her heart froze for just a second, but her eyes never left his. She knew if she looked down, he’d notice and she was sure this romp would be over as soon as it had started. So she kept her focus on him; honing in on the lustful gaze he had fixed on her, and pushing the rest from her mind to, undoubtedly, acknowledge later. But not now; not now that they were finally letting go of their inhibitions and exploring what had been begging them to be explored. She relaxed again under his gaze as she returned to the moment.

Draco looked down at the girl underneath him with the kind of want he couldn’t remember having in past encounters. This was _Hermione Granger_. This was war-hero, brightest-witch-of-her-age, youngest-Senior-Undersecretary-to-the-Minister-in-history Hermione Granger. This was someone he did not deserve in any lifetime. But the way she was looking up at him, like she wanted this just as badly, was causing an absolutely inexplicable reaction in his body. His hand interlaced their fingers as he raised her arm over her head and leaned down to kiss her again, trying to defog his brain from the champagne and lemon pops enough to remember the details of this tomorrow. 

He’d determined that the feeling of her breath on his lips was more intoxicating than anything; warm, uninhibited, and completely addicting. And the way her hair flowed, thick and endless through his fingers made him think he could get happily lost forever. There was a magnetism to the passion between them that seemed to silence the world around them so that nothing else existed; nothing else mattered, besides learning the curves of her body and drinking in this feeling of indulgence.

A low groan elicited from somewhere in his throat as his thumb brushed over her chest, followed by a slight, almost unnoticeable gasp under him. He caught her bottom lip again, nibbling it gently between his teeth as her fingers wound tightly into his hair in response. 

She could feel him pressed against her thigh, prominently waiting to be acknowledged, but not making a show of it. She smiled against his lips, feeling nothing besides unhindered bliss; no regret, no second thoughts. Every ounce of this felt like something she’d been missing her whole life. She felt comfortable, entwined almost completely naked with him on top of her sheets. She felt wanted and appreciated under his touch. And she felt invigorated at the thought of what came next. Her hand was slipping past the line of his boxers, tracing lightly along the hem as her lips parted for his tongue again, which felt like silk against her own, its movements perfectly timed to mirror her.

Draco swore he may have blacked out for a moment as her hand grasped his waistline more firmly and made to push the fabric down. Every part of him wanted this, but for some reason, he paused and a thought popped into his mind that he’d have liked to ignore… but couldn’t.

“Ah fuck,” he whispered audibly, kissing her again with a frustrated sigh, his hand moving down her body, over her soft skin that he did not want to stop touching.

“What?” She breathed, her hand pausing where it was, gripping the inseam, eyes blinking up at him as they tried to focus, though really not wanting anything to interrupt this right now. She was very much enjoying being caught up in a moment and allowing herself not to second guess it. But it sounded like he was, which was only going to crash her back to reality if he didn’t backtrack _right_ now.

He kissed her once more before flopping to the side with another frustrated sigh.

“Oh come on,” she said, unable to stop herself and he looked over at her, a brief look of amusement overtaking his features.

“You must have really been fantasizing about this to be so disappointed,” he quipped.

She looked back at him incredulously, rolling onto her side, “You’re joking right? I thought we’d already made the decision to throw caution to the wind tonight, which was instigated by _you_ making _me_ make a move, and for some reason you’ve decided to find your conscience again _now_?”

“Would you like to hear what I have to say?” He asked with a smile playing at his lips, not at all minding listening to her frustrations about clearly wanting him to take her right there.

“I’m not even sure I do,” she said haughtily, “We at least could have enjoyed this for tonight before acknowledging the implications, you know.”

“Hermione,” he turned onto his side so they were facing each other and draped his arm over her waist, “It’s just that we’d said before that we needed to sit down and talk about how this works before we took any more steps. I know I sort of instigated… but I think it’s clear we both want this. I just want to do it as right as we can, given the circumstances. And, like last time, I don’t want it to be a drunken mistake on your part that you’d regret.”

“We’re already naked and in my bed,” Hermione pointed out, “At this point, what’s the difference?”

“I think you and I both know there’s a difference between this and letting it go further. Which, for the record, I would still like to, I just want to talk about it beforehand, sober, over dinner perhaps, so we’re on the same page.”

She sighed as she considered him, her head was, indeed, a bit fuzzy from the alcohol, but she still felt quite in control of her actions and decisions, but she knew from his perspective, knowing he was doing things the ‘right’ way personally when it came to making the decision to do things the… wrong way _professionally_ probably felt imperative. He knew her job and the project were important to her and she knew he’d have to hear her tell him, sober, that she still wanted to pursue exploring their personal relationship. It was fair, if not a bit annoying and certainly unslytherin of him.

“Alright,” she said, “I understand. My decision isn’t going to be any different tomorrow, but I understand that you need to know that unequivocally to feel comfortable. Obviously I’d like to know the same.”

“Shall I take you to dinner tomorrow, then?” He asked with a grin.

“You can’t,” she said simply, “I’ve got the Ministry holiday party. How about after our brew session next week.”

“Hm, I don’t know, that gives you a whole week to think about all the reasons this is a bad idea again. I was really hoping to secure that sober decision before that happens.”

“Well you’re just going to have to hope I don’t change my mind,” she let out a small laugh, “Might be good for you to be on the edge of your seat for a few days.”

He grinned, pulling her flush against him, and planted a solid kiss on her lips that lingered as his hand absently brushed down her back. He exhaled a long breath through his nose, still not wanting to pull away from her, but knowing he’d have to go. But a few more kisses wouldn’t make a difference, he figured as he stole a couple more, his lips moving across her cheek and down to her neck. He heard her sigh contentedly and worked his way back to capture her lips once more.

“I should go,” he finally said.

“I’m getting sick of hearing you say that,” she quipped.

“Then sober up next week so we can get the technicalities out of the way,” he winked at her as he sat up, glancing down at the view of her looking up at him, hair sprawled haphazardly over the sheets, one hand still resting on his arm, “I could get used to this, I think.”

“I could too.”

He stood up, grabbing his shirt from the ground and as he did, her eyes finally dropped to take in the Dark Mark on his forearm. She’d thought it’d been inconspicuous, but he’d looked up at the same time to say something else. Whatever he’d been about to say, however, was lost as he realized what she was looking at and he closed his mouth again, standing up a bit rigidly.

“Sorry, I’ve tried every concealment charm there is, there’s no way to hide it. I would have, if I could.”

“That’s… it’s fine,” she shook her head, embarrassed, “I’m sorry, I shouldn't have stared.”

“Can’t really miss it though, can you?” he said rhetorically, “Especially with the scars and all.”

She thought for a moment on how to respond before saying softly, “No, you really can’t. I’m sure it’s difficult for you to live with looking at those reminders of your past every day.”

“No reason to feel bad for me, I deserve a good reminder every morning of what I’m working to fix.”

Hermione grabbed the robe that was hanging on a hook by her bed, tossing it on and tying it loosely around her waist before sitting back against the bed as he slipped his shirt over his arms and hastily began buttoning it back up.

“You’re angry,” she said, studying his demeanor.

“The Mark isn’t an easy thing for other people to see. I know it brings back a lot of horrible memories. I’m sorry you had to see it. I can find another way to cover it next time. If there is a next time,” he added in.

“I’ve known it was there,” she said simply, “It’s not a surprise.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s not a shock all the same, I get it.”

“Draco,” she reached out and grabbed his hand that had just finished buttoning his pants back up.

He didn’t want to look at her, but he had to, “I really should be going.”

“Could we address this, please, so it doesn’t have to be brought up again quite so bluntly,” she said more directly.

He let out a heavy sigh, “I just don’t know what to say. I’m sure it’s jarring to see a Dark Mark so up close and I’m sure it’s making you relive moments that you work hard to subdue. It’s not a simple matter to address.”

“It’s not easy to see,” she agreed, “But I knew it was there. And I know, moreso than the allegiance it represented at one time, it’s a sign of everything you’ve overcome. You’re more than that tattoo and it does not define who you are.”

He just looked at her, feeling completely undeserving of her justification of the mark that sullied his arm, “It does define who I am, Hermione,” he said, trying to soften his tone, knowing she certainly was not the one to take his self-deprecation out on, “But you’re right that it’s also a reminder of who I’m trying to be now. I appreciate your view on it.”

She tugged on his hand a little and his feet dragged the slightest bit, but he walked closer as she grabbed his shirt again and pulled him down to her so they were eye to eye, “I like who you are now, Draco, just keep pushing forward.” Her tone was calm and she noticed his eyes searched hers a bit, as if looking for validation and sincerity to allow him not to wallow. She smiled sweetly, closing the gap and kissing him again, lingering there a moment so maybe he could take in some of her calmness. 

His body relaxed slightly as his hands came to rest on the bed, letting his breath out slowly through his nose. When she pulled back, his eyes met hers once more and he saw the purity in her of someone who wanted him to see the light within himself. He gave her a crooked smile, stealing another kiss before he stood up, brushing a strand of hair out of her face and behind her ear, his hand pausing on the side of her neck as she was still lightly grasping the fabric of his shirt, “Sorry, I can be a bit guarded when it comes to this stuff.”

“I understand,” she said, “Can I ask what the scars on your chest are from?”

“Of course you can ask,” he had no reason to hide anything from her, but was also trying to retain the calm he was feeling from her embrace, “But do you mind if we talk about it another night?” 

“Okay,” she nodded with a small smile, “Sorry to pry, I just feel like having these things in the open between us will help... in the long run.” 

“I know. Honestly I owe you a lot of explanations because I keep most things locked away. It’s not easy to share, but I’m sure it’ll all come out with time.”

She pulled him back to her for one more soft, reassuring kiss before she let her hands fall from his shirt, his thumb running softly across her jawline as he considered her for an extra moment wishing things could have been different and that this could be easier for them before he sighed and took a step back to continue putting himself back together.

“I had a wonderful night tonight, I’m glad you invited me to the party,” she said, switching gears as he pulled his shoes on.

“Wouldn’t have felt right without you there,” he said honestly, looking around to make sure he wasn’t missing anything else, but quite keen to be alone with his thoughts.

She walked out with him to the door, pausing another moment, “I’m looking forward to discussing the details of an arrangement over dinner next week,” she said, wanting to solidify that the Dark Mark debacle hadn’t changed anything.

“I am as well,” he said using all of his energy to give her something akin to an unburdened smile, “See you next week.”

She opened the door for him and as it clicked shut again, she leaned back against it, closing her eyes and sighing. It was a mixture of frustration and contentment rolled into one, but the overwhelming feeling that sat in her chest was excitement from the events that evening. She was glad, in a way, that they’d gotten the uncomfortableness of acknowledging his Dark Mark out of the way as there really wasn’t a way they could have avoided it forever. But he seemed better by the time he’d left… she was sure he’d brood on it for a while longer, but she also felt like it went as well as it could have and he’d bounce back with confidence as he always did. She’d crawled into bed soon after feeling like she did every Friday night, like next Friday couldn’t come soon enough.

O-o-o-o-o-o-o

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy holidays!! Wanted to get this out today as a little holiday season gift to you all! Please review if you’ve got a few minutes and let me know how you’re enjoying the story so far!


	16. The Invitation

Hermione was unashamed to show up Saturday night to the Ministry holiday party in the same dress from the night before… after a bit of a smoothing spell from its time in a pile on her floor. But she figured Harry and Pansy would be the only ones who would know and it really seemed unnecessary to buy _two_ dresses.

She’d arrived at Ron and Hannah’s with a group of friends from the Ministry before the event to kick off the night with a few bottles of wine, as Finn was staying with the Weasleys for the evening. The group wasn’t large, but it was mostly the same as it always was - Ron and Hannah, Seamus and Ernie, Dean and Alicia, Daphne, George and Angelina, and Harry with the new addition of Pansy. He’d brought her over to Ron’s for dinner with them once now and though she and Ron didn't quite hit it off, it had gone alright. She assumed Hannah had given him a talking to before dinner to remind him to be well-mannered as Pansy was their guest and Ron had obliged, albeit a bit awkwardly. But tonight, it was their normal group of friends and everyone seemed relaxed and in the celebrating spirit.

“Alright you lot, it’s that time in the night,” Ron stepped in front of the fireplace with a grin, “Cheers, to making it through another year at the Ministry,” he raised his glass in a toast as everyone gathered near the fireplace, “Through every enchanted lamp, cursed teapot, and dark artifact raid.”

“Through every weekend mission,” Harry added in.

“And Monday morning debrief,” Dean huffed.

“And midnight owl,” Daphne shot an accusing look at Harry, who laughed it off with a tip of his glass.

“Cheers to every policy reform rewrite and budget presentation in the Minister’s office,” Hermione chimed in.

“And every new team uniform request and rule change in the Department for Magical Games and Sports,” sighed Alicia.

“And every muggle coverup story in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes,” Seamus and Ernie grinned at each other and a few chuckles broke out.

“And every all-night interrogation at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement with the punks starting those magical accidents and catastrophes,” Angelina replied dryly.

“And every push for improvement to the lives of the magical creatures around us,” Hannah's eyes met Ron's adoringly.

Pansy looked over at Hermione with her eyebrows raised, “ _It’s tradition_ ,” she whispered quietly back to her with a shrug.

“And for every business that so gratefully gets to work with your Ministry departments,” Pansy said with her usual cool drawl.

“And to another year of an open bar paid for by the Ministry,” George raised his glass as everyone laughed, cheersing before sipping their drinks.

“Hanging with a bunch of Gryffindors is like being at summer camp,” Pansy said amusedly as she followed Hermione over to the couches.

“Everyone likes to be a part of the toast,” Hermione couldn’t help but agree a little, but they did love their pre-party tradition that had stuck for years now.

“So did you end up walking home last night?” Pansy asked as she sunk into the corner cushion on the couch, legs crossed and leaning back casually as her toned, tan leg popped out from another high slit cut into her dress, which was a deep blue tonight, covered in hand-sewn sequins, with a surprisingly conservative cap-sleeved top ("Something elegant to show off on Harry's arm," she'd quipped when Hermione had first complimented it early in the night).

Hermione cleared her throat the tiniest bit, “Ah, yes, Draco offered to walk me so I thought the fresh air would be nice.”

“Mm, I’m sure.”

“You know, after the dancing and such. It was refreshing.”

“You know you two seem to be… getting close,” Pansy said innocently.

“I’d say we’re good friends now,” Hermione nodded, trying to hold eye contact, feeling a bit anxious that Pansy may know something, and she was a terrible liar. But this simply wasn’t something she could be honest about given the circumstances.

“He doesn’t like many people,” Pansy noted, “Certainly doesn't like people in his lab space. And actually gets quite bothered having to take time away from his precious research to deal with much of anything else. We pry him away when we can, of course, and remind him of the world outside the office," she watched Hermione thoughtfully, "He enjoys being out, once he’s there, but in general… he’s happiest alone in his lab discovering breakthroughs and feeling like he’s contributing to something.”

Hermione wasn’t sure what to take from the information but as she opened her mouth to respond, Pansy continued.

“That was, until _you_ came along. Now I’d say he seems happiest on Friday afternoons locked in there with you,” the smile on her face was telling as she took a sip from her glass, “He was never one for a lunch break, either, but he sure does seem to look forward to our Thursday lunches.”

“Oh, well that’s... that’s very nice,” Hermione said as her heart warmed hearing someone so close to Draco confirm what she hoped to be true.

“Is it safe to say that you also enjoy those Friday lab sessions and Thursday lunches?” Pansy asked, inferring the obvious.

“I mean, I quite enjoy our research, yes,” she knew she was blushing, but she held her head high, “And it’s nice for all of us to go out on Thursdays. Always lovely to spend the time with you and Harry, and Draco, and whoever else joins us."

“You see, I think there’s more between you two,” Pansy said, “I think you’re both falling for each other whether you realize it or not.”

“Well that’s… that’s silly. We’re working together. Just, really good partners on this project. I mean Draco is, well he’s wonderful; smart, driven, dedicated to making a difference, even a bit funny, under the walls he puts up,” she realized she was rambling and reeled it back in, “But at the end of the day he’s the CEO of a company under Ministry funding and we’ve just built a good friendship. A really good friendship.”

Pansy considered her a few extra seconds, “Well, I think perhaps when this working relationship comes to an end, it wouldn’t hurt to explore something more. I think you’re becoming quite important to him. And honestly, I think you’re good for him. And I think he’s done a lot of work on himself to be good for you too. And I hope you can see that even with his past.”

“Are you trying to set me up with Draco?” She relaxed a little with a small laugh, realizing Pansy didn’t know anything. She was likely just trying to dig into _if_ they liked each other and plant the seed that they should think about dating, “And of course I’ve let Draco’s past be just that. I’ve seen the change in him and I know the man he’s grown into.”

Pansy’s lip curled up at that, “I just think you’re a shockingly good fit. And I see chemistry between you. I think if you dropped the friend label, you’d see it too. Don’t discount it, is all I’m saying.”

“What are you girls talking about over here?” Harry asked as he walked over with a bottle of wine. Pansy held her empty glass up and he refilled it, offering some to Hermione as well, who declined, her glass still half full.

“The lab,” Hermione responded before Pansy had a chance.

“And her brew sessions with Draco,” Pansy elaborated.

“You know Pansy and I think you two should date,” Harry said as he sat on the arm of the couch behind Pansy, “After all this Ministry funding stuff, of course, but we think you seem like a good match.”

“Is this what you two do with your evenings; sit at home and try to play matchmaker?”

“Oh, is that what you were just talking about?” Harry looked down at Pansy who was shaking her head with a laugh.

“No tact. No tact at all even as the Chosen One.”

“I was never very good at the whole dating thing.”

“He was rubbish,” Hermione confirmed with a nod.

“And I love you for every bit of your rubbish dating skills,” Pansy grinned up at him as he leaned down to plant a very pleased kiss on her plump lips.

Hermione sighed, “We’re starting this already?”

“One day you and Draco will be the same,” Pansy said airily.

“Alright, I’m going to go say hi to Dean and Seamus,” Hermione ignored her comment and stood as Pansy laughed again.

“See you soon, Granger.”

They’d eventually all made it to the Ministry, where a ball was held in a magically extended room off the atrium. It was nice to see months of budgeting and planning work unfold into the elegant evening before them and Hermione took in the details proudly. She’d made her rounds to the different heads of departments, because as much as this was an evening for everyone to celebrate the holidays and let loose, she did have a future career goal that quite required her to learn names and faces and build repertories with those around her. She’d spent some time by Kingsley’s side that evening as well as they talked casually about holiday plans and upcoming Ministry projects with members of the Wizengamot and their guests from the International Confederation of Wizards that had attended.

She always limited herself to three drinks at these events, spaced evenly over a few hours, as to keep a professional mind about her. These events, along with charity dinners, political functions, and new head of department inductions were always similar, and she always quite enjoyed them. Though this year, something felt like it was missing; someone to turn to for a personal side conversation, or just the presence of someone close to her as she went about her Ministry duties. She knew, without a shadow of a doubt that what she was missing was the feeling of the night prior, with Draco close by with a drink refill or a quip about the conversation they’d just left, or even across the room, catching her eye with a smoldering look shared just between the two of them.

She’d certainly never minded attending these functions on her own; even thought she preferred it so she could focus on remembering everyone she needed to interact with and the subjects to ask each one about. But maybe it wasn’t that she preferred to attend these alone, maybe it was just that she’d never found anyone she’d want to be there with her. And now she had. But of course she couldn’t, yet, with their working relationship. But maybe next year, she smiled subconsciously, maybe he’d be there by her side, fingers interlaced with hers, sharing new potion developments with her colleagues as they both counted down the minutes before they could return home together from a night of mingling. 

“Hermione, what were your thoughts on the policy changes for giant laws?” Kingsley asked, pulling her from her thoughts, “Jacque was one of our key reform contributors from the international convention we held a few months ago.”

Without missing a beat she jumped in, “Progressive, of course, but I had some ideas that I’d love to discuss with the Department of Magical Being Relations to push those policies even a little further towards independence for their tribes. Something that hopefully can be brought to the next convention for consideration.”

Jacque laughed heartily, “But the giants are not looking for independence, just protection and more land.” Jacque was the French Minister for Magic, a short and round man that stood almost unrealistically proper, never hunched, and his chin constantly in the air as he peered around. He was quite friendly, if not a bit aloof sometimes. And he never missed a holiday party.

“I respectfully disagree, Minister,” Hermione replied, “I think all human-like beings want to feel the same independence that the wizarding community has. And I think there are ways to help them achieve that without risking the International Statute of Secrecy.”

“She has spunk, this one,” Jacque patted Kingsley on the shoulder jovially.

“And brilliant ideas,” Kingsley said with a warm smile at Hermione, “We’ll try to set something up with Horton after the holidays, he’s head of that department and I think we’d all like to hear what you’ve got in mind.”

“Thank you, Kingsley,” Hermione returned the look. She knew he agreed with a lot of her progressive thoughts on humanoid rights and guessed that perhaps he’d found opposition in sharing those thoughts with Jacque and likely was looking for a show of solidarity that the English Ministry would push for more.

Jacque sighed, still looking quite light, “I guess we will look forward to discussing this again next summer. Until then, shall I grab another round of wine?”

“That would be wonderful, Jacque,” Kingsley held his glass up to him as Jacque shuffled off towards the bar.

After an evening of networking and finally rejoining her friends for the last hour or so, she’d returned home, bidding farewell to Harry and Pansy on her doorstep. Not soon after she’d changed into pajamas and warmed herself a croissant for a midnight snack, a peck came at her window. She set her plate down, wiping her hands against each other as she walked across the room, Crookshanks eyeing her curiously as she opened the window to a proud-looking black speckled owl. It held its leg out for her, but no note was attached; alternatively, a single rose was clutched in his claw. She smiled, taking the rose from the owl and twirling it in her hand as she reached for the bowl beside the windowsill, grabbing a few owl pellets and feeding them to the haughty bird, who pecked at them a few times before accepting them. Quite pleased with the treats, it nibbled one of her fingers affectionately before taking off out the window again.

There was no doubt that bird was Draco’s. She returned to her croissant, rose in hand and leaned against the counter with a sigh. She was, indeed, falling for him. And the flower that stared back at her seemed to be a decent sign that he felt the same; that he was thinking of her, sitting at home, just as she was. 

O-o-o-o-o-o-o

“Hermione, are you ready for lunch?” Harry asked as he popped his head in her office doorway the following Thursday.

“Oh! Yes, sorry, let me just—” she shuffled some papers together, trying to tame the whirlwind of paperwork that had somehow overtaken her whole desk, “Okay,” she said a minute later, “Yes, let’s go.”

“Your hair looks nice today,” Harry said as they walked from the Minister’s office towards the atrium.

“Oh, thank you, just felt like letting it down I guess.”

“How’s your week been?”

“Busy. With the Ministry holiday closure for nonessential departments next week I feel like everyone is cramming in their paperwork and making double the work for me _this_ week. But at least it will be quiet next week when the office is empty.”

“Are you off tomorrow? Auror office is going down to a skeleton crew Friday through Monday for a ‘long weekend.’ I’ll be here Friday of course, but I won’t be on call Saturday or Sunday so that’s a win. You know, as long as nothing catastrophic happens.”

“Knock on wood, Harry. You’re not the kind of person I like to hear foreshadowing from. And yes, I’m off, but I’ll be at Draconis Labs for a long brew session. A very exciting one actually.”

He grinned at her, “That sounds like a lovely day. Ron’s joining for lunch, by the way.”

“Oh no way! That’s wonderful. Meeting us in the atrium?”

“Yes, Hannah’s got some work to finish up so I told him I was dragging him along.”

As Hermione took another step down the hall, a jolt coursed through her body and her knees buckled under her before she caught herself with a small gasp.

“You alright?” Harry turned quickly to see what happened.

“Fine, fine,” she said, rubbing her forearm as the tingling sensation hit, “It was just—”

“A jolt,” Harry gave her a crooked smile, “Sorry, just took me a minute to realize what happened. No worries. You ready to head down or do you want a minute first?”

“No, I’m fine, really. It’s worst when it happens while walking, honestly, especially in heels. Gets me really off balance.”

“I know,” Harry said in a soft voice, knowing all too well about the ins and outs of the after effects of the Cruciatus curse. It was always uncomfortable when it happened around other people, though it shouldn’t be since so many of them dealt with it now. But at least they were the only ones in the hallway so there was no one else to answer to.

Hermione shook herself a little before nodding, “Okay, let’s get to lunch,” she gave him a small smile that he returned as they started walking again, “What did you get Pansy for Christmas?” She asked, trying to slip back into normal conversation.

“Well I have this beautiful pair of diamond earrings of my mother’s that I found years ago in my vault at Gringotts. I know they were hers because they’re quite unique and she’s wearing them in a lot of old photos. I’m going to give them to Pansy,” he said happily, accepting that Hermione was ready to move on from the momentary setback.

The elevator dinged and they stepped on before the door closed and it zoomed away from the gates and dropped abruptly to continue on its way. 

“That’s a very sweet gesture,” Hermione said, almost a bit shocked at how _big_ of a gesture it seemed, to give something of his mother's away.

“There’s loads of stuff in the vault,” Harry said with a shrug before clearing his throat a little, “But if I'm being honest, I just feel... _good_ about this. And I want her to know that; want her to know she's something special to me, you know. I mean, I'm not delusional, I know it hasn't been _that_ long, but sometimes you just... _er_... know? And I want her to know that I know."

“I’m happy for you, Harry,” she said, doing her best not to grin at his attempt to explain in his normal awkward, Harry way as her heart swelled for him. Harry wasn't often a romantic, which was just another sign that his relationship with Pansy was different.

"Plus, these Slytherins, they're tough to buy for with their vaults of gold."

Hermione laughed, "Right, they are, aren't they."

Before Harry had a chance to think of her agreeing comment, the elevator dinged on the Atrium level and they stepped off to see Ron waiting for them.

“Excited for you to join,” Hermione said as they reached him.

“Had to eventually, didn’t I?” Ron sighed as they all started walking towards the exit.

“Mrs. Weasley invited Pansy to Christmas dinner this weekend,” Harry mentioned with a grin.

“Did she?” Hermione looked over at Ron who was nodding before looking back at Harry, “Oh that’s wonderful!”

“Mum was excited to hear he got himself a girlfriend. I tried to explain she’s a Slytherin, but she still insisted she join for dinner.”

“Oh Ron,” she slapped his arm lightly, “You had a perfectly nice time when we were all together for dinner.”

“I know, I know, I’m just joking. You seem happy, huh, Harry?”

“Never been happier, Ron,” he gave an amused chuckle at the question he'd been asked by almost everyone he knew at that point, “She truly gives me the kind of feeling I always thought was just a made-up romance novel trope.”

“And you two obviously have plenty of chemistry,” Hermione side-eyed him with a dry look. 

Ron paused a moment before looking over at Harry, “Do you feel like you can talk to her about the real stuff, though? Don’t get me wrong, I see the chemistry, who could miss it, but I mean, can you talk to her about the war and stuff? About the Dursleys? Your chemistry, it reminds me of what I had in the beginning with Lav… and there really wasn’t much else.”

Harry gave him a crooked smile. He knew he was still skeptical of the Slytherins, but he was coming around, too, and just needed a little reassuring, “We talk about the real stuff too,” he said with a nod, “We talked about a lot of it pretty early, actually. She’s quite up front and wanted to understand what I’d been through, short story and long, and how that impacted how I would even look at someone like her who was affiliated with the other side. She makes me feel light most days, but when we need to be real, she’s real. She grew up in a house where she never felt good enough. Her parents always expected more, put her down all the time, and then dressed her up and paraded her around their family friends bragging about her as though they couldn’t be prouder. We all have our baggage at this point in life, don’t we? But we’re also all allowed to leave it at the door and go out for a while; come back to it when we need to.”

They stepped out into the winter air, pulling their jackets a little tighter around themselves.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Alright, just had to ask,” Ron said a little awkwardly, but accepting that Harry seemed quite smitten.

Hermione smiled over at them, happy that Ron was entertaining the idea that Harry was in it for the long haul with Pansy, and also quite happy to hear that Harry and Pansy’s relationship had the kind of depth that they needed at this point in their lives.

“Shall we apparate?” Hermione asked, “It’s a bit nippy for a walk.”

“I’m for it,” Ron agreed and Harry nodded.

The three turned on the spot and appeared seconds later in front of The Dragon Lair.

“In we get,” Harry said, opening the door and ushering Hermione and Ron through as he braced against the chilled wind.

They spotted Draco, Pansy and Susan across the room and made their way over, greeting them all as they took their seats, Hermione taking the chair next to Draco, who eyed her with an inconspicuous grin as she sat and she felt herself blush as she smiled back, acknowledging that she’d missed him the last week and was glad to be back by his side.

“Weasley, glad you could join,” Draco said as he turned his head back to the others, holding out his hand in greeting.

Ron hesitated briefly, but accepted the gesture with a handshake, still not quite meeting his eye, “Wanted to see what the Thursday lunch fuss was all about.”

He took the seat between Susan and Harry, nodding a greeting to Pansy who waved coyly back, “Afternoon, Weasley, good to see you again.”

They made small talk until the waiter in the black silky robes came over for them to place their orders, sending along their drinks soon after.

“Happy almost holidays, everyone!” Susan said as she raised her mug of hot chocolate to the group.

“Cheers to that!” Said Ron, who seemed quite relieved that Susan was there to ease the transition into hanging out with Slytherins, “What are you doing for the holidays, Susan?”

“Oh I use the holidays as a reason to take off on a solo exploration trip every year. I’ll be backpacking around Egypt this year.”

“Egypt? My family visited years ago. Really the only vacation we’ve ever been on," he glanced momentarily over at Draco as though expecting a rude comment, but Draco was simply listening as he sipped his espresso unphased, which was... oddly reassuring so without much of a pause, Ron continued, "It was a spectacular place, but watch out for the cursed tombs.”

Susan laughed, “I’ll remember that. And you? Spending it with your family?”

“Oh yeah," Ron was focused on Susan again, clearly relaxing into their interactions at least, "We have a nice big Christmas Eve dinner and Christmas Day celebration. My brothers will all be home and Ginny’s got some time off from Quidditch until March. Harry and Hermione come every year."

“That sounds lovely,” Susan smiled.

“It’s been, gosh, twelve years now that we’ve all been spending it together,” Hermione said with a nod, “Mrs. Weasley is a wonderful host.”

“What are you doing for the holidays, Draco?” Harry asked as he sat back, stretching his arm around the back of Pansy’s seat.

“I’m sure I’ll be in the lab all weekend,” he said nonchalantly, blowing on his coffee a bit to cool it, “Plenty to work on. Deadlines and such.”

“You should at least take the day off, Draco,” Pansy chided lightly, “They say it helps clear the mind once in a while.”

“Maybe being in the lab is just a better way to clear the mind for me,” Draco shrugged.

“I certainly understand that,” Susan said, “That’s why I started planning these extravagant holiday trips. Sitting at home at the holidays made me feel like I’d rather be at work. Maybe you should take a trip!”

“As much as I encourage my staff to enjoy the time off, I’ve got too much in the works to set down for any extended period of time.”

Harry glanced over at Ron, who caught his eye and cleared his throat a bit uncomfortably, looking like he was trying to find the courage for his next sentence, “You know, mum never minded a last minute addition to the guest list.”

Draco furrowed his eyebrows for a moment and everyone was quiet, “That’s generous, Weasley, but I certainly couldn't encroach on your family at the holidays. I don’t think anyone would be very excited to see a Malfoy at the dinner table.”

“I think it’d be wonderful to have you,” Hermione said softly, her heart swelling at the offer from Ron.

“Really, I couldn’t—”

“I’ll be there, Draco,” Pansy noted, “You wouldn’t be the only Slytherin at the table.”

“Right but that’s different—”

“I’d enjoy it if you were there,” Harry said.

“Really, I appreciate the offer, but I’ve got a couple of brews already planned with all the ingredients ready. I really do need to be in the lab so I’ll respectfully have to pass," he looked at Ron with the most genuine sincerity he could for someone he had such a turbulent past with, "But it was very kind of you.”

“Alright, well the offer stands if you change your mind,” Ron nodded once, accepting his response, as he turned back to Susan, “Same goes for you of course, if you ever find yourself in town at the holidays.”

“I’ll keep that in the back of my mind,” Susan said, looking grateful for her inclusion.

Hermione looked over at Draco thoughtfully, wondering if she might be able to sway him during their brew session the following day. _Wouldn’t hurt to try,_ she smiled a little, which he caught out of the corner of his eye and gave her his best attempt at one in return.

Their food arrived and Harry pivoted the conversation to the pickup quidditch game they were trying to plan for New Years the week following with Dean and Seamus and some of their friends at the Ministry. It had been much easier to get Draco to agree to join for an afternoon flying around another week out and they settled into a comfortable lunchtime conversation before they all returned to their respective offices. 

Hermione had found out on the walk back that Harry had specifically suggested to Ron the week prior that he invite Draco for the holidays, which Ron had not initially been keen on, but had begrudgingly agreed that it was the right thing to do, given the circumstances that Draco wouldn't be spending it with his own family. He’d even admitted that lunch had been a good break from the office and it had been a nice change to casually talk professional Quidditch with someone who had followed it in their younger years as he had. All in all, Hermione felt a little twinkle of hope that Ron would come around with time. And she hoped Draco would reconsider the invitation for Christmas, as she’d very much enjoy having him there to spend it with them.

O-o-o-o-o-o-o

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoping to have the next chapter to you early in the weekend!!


	17. The Brain Elixir Brew

Hermione walked into Draconis Laboratories the next morning, noting how different it was not to be greeted by the warm voice of Susan. Her heels seemed to echo even louder than usual in the surrounding silence, but she trekked on towards Draco’s office, looking forward to their day with the Brain Elixir.

She knocked unnecessarily on his door as she walked in, “Good morning,” she said brightly.

He looked up from the notes he was copying down out of a book, “I see you got my owl about casual Friday,” he said with a grin.

“I’ve got jeans on, that makes it casual,” she said coolly as she dropped her bag on the chair in front of his desk. She’d gone with a long sleeved black chiffon blouse tucked loosely into a pair of jeans, and although she’d gone back and forth, she’d still opted for the pumps. Once she’d learned to walk in them years ago, she found herself enthralled with the confidence they gave her to stride into a room. And that was a confidence she quite enjoyed exhibiting around Draco. The don’t-fuck-with-me businesswoman confidence.

He eyed her blatantly before meeting her eyes again, “That’ll work for dinner tonight as well.”

“Oh? I don’t believe I received an owl about dinner.”

“Surprise,” he said wryly.

“And where are we going?”

“Draco’s Fine Dining.”

“That sounds like your house.”

“That’s because it is.”

“Do you think it’s a good idea to go somewhere quite so intimate to discuss whether we can… be intimate?”

“Anywhere else we go we could run into people we know.”

“But we’re _friends_. As long as we hold the line, so to say, there’s no reason we can’t get dinner out.”

His grin broadened, “You really don’t trust yourself around me, do you?”

She considered him, “No, I don’t think I trust either of us. It’s an invigorating feeling, actually, but one that’s obvious and feels like it should be acknowledged.”

He actually quite liked that response and how open they could be about the circumstances, “Alright, well how about we keep it friendly and go to The Hungry Hippogriff, then? It just opened at the end of Diagon Alley; quaint and cozy like The Three Broomsticks. If the discussion yields certain results, perhaps I’ll make that dinner for you another night.”

“For the record, I do enjoy the idea of you making me dinner. But I think, based on the reason for the dinner, The Hungry Hippogriff seems like a better setting.”

“I concede,” he gave a swift nod, “Though if this conversation continues much longer we may as well just have the whole thing now.”

“Not in the office,” Hermione shook her head, “We can’t be thinking about that stuff here. We’re here to _work_.”

“Oh Granger, I think you’d slap me right across the face if you knew what I was really thinking about right now,” he said as a smirk settled itself onto his features.

She let out an audible sigh as she ignored his comment, even though she was internally very curious to know, “Shall we get onto the brew so we can make it to that dinner later?”

“Sounds lovely,” he got up and crossed to the lab as she took in his take on casual which seemed decently akin to hers. He’d swapped out his button down for a well fitted green sweater and his slacks for a pair of clearly tailored jeans, sporting freshly polished loafers.

They prepared the cauldron and the supplies as they discussed what the process would be for the day.

“So let’s do a quick review on the Brain Elixir, would you like to test your memory?” He asked as he carefully folded up the bottom of his sleeves in two clean rolls, as he always did.

She nodded, feeling prepared for this as she’d been reading up on the potion theories and the status of brews to date the night prior, “The Brain Elixir is your potion that’s aimed at reversing more long-lasting dark curses that impact the brain; most notably, memory charms and prolonged torture curses.”

“Correct,” he said as he flicked his wand, ladles and measuring cups flying over from the drying rack by the sink.

“I read through your summary on the last brew as well as your notes on the research you've been doing in between and I think the theory is actually very solid with some of the tweaks you’ve made.”

“Anything jump out at you that you were unsure about?” He asked as he started uncorking vials and unscrewing jar lids.

She opened up her notebook, which included a copy of his research notes, and then pulled open a book she’d borrowed from him to a dog-eared page, “I did flag one thing, actually, that I wanted to bring up before we dive in.”

“Mm?” he looked over at her running her finger down the page, his brain momentarily flashing to the image of her fingers running down his chest and he shook his head inconspicuously, they really did need to focus today.

“Yes, here it is. The Doxy Eggs. From my reading it seems like the use for this in the potion is to break down the physical presence of the curse, but I think it’s going to be too strong with relation to the accompanying ingredients to use for a potion meant to affect the brain. It’s great for breaking down poison and curse compounds in topical mixtures to be applied to hands and feet and other small boned areas, but when mixed with these other ingredients meant to _direct_ the potion to the brain… I think it’s going to overpower some of them and keep it from its target.”

“Hm,” he furrowed his brows, walking over to read the section she’d flagged, “Yes, I see what you mean. I did hope by using a small enough portion it wouldn’t be quite so strong—”

“And you may be right. I may be overthinking the strength compared to the larger component some of the other ingredients make up.”

“No, it’s a fair point you made. It very well could still overpower it because of the rate it dissolves at. My calculations were right at the brink but any less and it wouldn’t be potent enough to keep the effect and any more, what you’re predicting would be a given.”

“So I started digging into alternatives and I came across Bloodroot.”

“That’s an even stronger dissolvant.”

“Right, it is stronger, but the difference is that it doesn’t specifically interact with most of our other ingredients, whereas Doxy Eggs basically have a reaction with all of them. So we could use a similar potency to the Doxy Eggs and even though it’s stronger, it shouldn’t take away the effectiveness of getting the potion to the brain.”

Draco was nodding slowly as he read a few lines in the book she had open, “You’ve given me another idea. We’re going to brew two batches. We’re going to brew at the same time so everything is timed right and I want you to brew one with Bloodroot and I’m going to brew one using a mix of Doxy Eggs and Bloodroot,” he flipped the page in the book she had open beside her, scanning it for confirmation of his theory.

“A mix?” she repeated as the cogs started turning in her own head on his idea.

He nodded, “I do think Doxy Eggs are going to be more appropriate for dissolving curses at the right rate because Bloodroot is abnormally strong on cells, _but_ I also think you’re right that the amount we need of the Doxy Eggs is going to decrease the effectiveness of the other ingredients. By using smaller amounts of both ingredients — which don’t show any interacting effects — we’ll get the right breakdown impact on the curse without having to worry about it not reaching the correct area of the brain.”

“Should we just go that route? Do you think we need to do two?”

“I’d honestly like to see what the outcome of Bloodroot is on its own. I think it’s an interesting concept. So yes, if you’re up for it, let’s do both.”

Hermione nodded determinedly. He was going to set up a station just for her in the lab today. She felt a little nervous that she might mess something up, but also a bit excited to go out on her own after working with Draco on his brews for so long.

The next hour was spent meticulously cutting up roots, simmering oils, and measuring powder weights. Draco took off down the hall for a few minutes as well to find some bloodroot in the storeroom, returning with a large vial, “Should be enough.”

They set up a second cauldron and lit a fire under each as they divided out the supplies into two stations. Draco started in on new ingredient calculations, referencing a couple different books from his shelves before he came back to the table and made some handwritten revisions on Hermione’s copy of the brew to take into account the Bloodroot substitution before editing his own brew instructions for the Doxy Egg and Bloodroot mix. The instructions were long compared to the others they’d done — three full pages whereas most were about a page. It was intimidating, knowing each instruction must be followed perfectly without missing a line or mis-measuring an ingredient, but it was a challenge she was looking forward to.

In total, it took them almost three hours to go through the process before they made their last five clockwise stirs and finally set down their stirring spoons. Hermione’s hair was a bit frizzy and Draco’s cheeks were pink from standing over the fumes as they finally sat back at their stools, exhausted.

“We did it,” Hermione said with relief.

“You did great,” he grinned at her, “The color looks just right. I’m curious to see how the two potions impact the cells.”

“Thanks,” she said proudly, “It did look pretty great. Though I guess I have to give some credit to you as you’re the one that came up with the whole concoction.”

“Hold your credit until we check the results. I only deserve it if it works.”

“I think you deserve it either way. It’s a very impressive and well-thought out mixture. You said it has to sit for five hours now?”

He nodded, “Stirring every thirty minutes just to make sure we don’t have time to do anything productive.”

“Well in that case,” she stood up, moving her stool to a clear part of the room, “ _Sellapulvius_ ,” she waved her wand at the stool as it transfigured into a plush red armchair. She flopped back into it, crossing her legs with a sigh, “This is much better.”

“Wha — you can’t—” he balked at her, “Well at least change mine too.”

“Bring it on over.”

He moved his chair to the middle of the room and watched as she waved her wand at it, the stool being replaced with another plush red armchair.

“Red is the only color you learned?”

“How about ‘thank you’?”

“Thank you,” he corrected, leaning back into the chair, “This is a bit dangerous, you know. I could fall asleep in seconds in this thing.”

“Guess I’ll have to keep your mind active,” Hermione quipped as he looked over at her with intrigue. She’d been planning to use the time to bring a certain subject back up.

“I’m all ears.”

“I think you should come to Christmas at the Weasleys this weekend.”

He huffed, taking a moment for a breath before he said simply, “Look, Hermione, I just can’t. I’ve got loads of work to do.”

“Anything can wait a day. It’ll be a really fun time. They’re incredibly welcoming.”

“I’m sure they are, it's just… it’s too much on their part.”

“They already have so many of us there,” she gave a small laugh, “Really one more won’t make a difference.”

He looked like he was internally debating something before he sighed, looking at her pointedly, “You have to understand, it’s crossing the line of an acceptable amount of generosity from their family. After all they’ve put up with from my family, I couldn't.”

“Draco, you’ve been invited. You’re not crashing and they know who they’re inviting. Sometimes people just _are_ compassionate and it’s okay to accept that.”

“I know this might sound selfish, but it would also just be incredibly difficult for me to be there. To look into each of their faces knowing I was on the side that killed their son; their brother. I don’t know that I could do it.”

The chairs were close enough in the confined space that she reached forward, covering his hand that was resting on the arm of the chair with her own, “You’ve taken on a large amount of responsibility and regret. There are certain things you’re allowed to let yourself move forward from. You, personally, had nothing to do with Fred’s death. They all know that.”

His whole body warmed at the feeling of her hand against him, but it didn’t quite take away the coldness that encompassed him when he embraced conversations about his past, “Alright, take that away and replace it with every awful thing my father did to their family. To the girl, Ginny, second year; to their father throughout his time at the Ministry; to all of you, at the manor. Or just how I treated all of you, individually, and how I talked about their family. That was my own fucked up judgment.”

A chill ran down her spine as it always did on the subject of the manor, “And we all know the lengths you’re going to in order to distance yourself from your father and critically challenge the views you used to have. Honestly, I know it must be hard constantly wondering what people think of you, but the Weasleys are good people. They wanted to extend an offer for you to spend the holiday with us.”

“But why would they even invite me? They really know nothing about my situation.”

“Well,” she gave him a bit of an embarrassed look, “Harry’s actually mentioned over the years about how you’ve changed when you’ve been brought up here and there. I kind of ignored it when he’d say it but Ron’s parents listened, they never scoffed when he’d try to put in a good word for you. And Ron mentioned to them the gist of what you’re doing with this company recently.”

“Why would he have done that? I still don’t think he likes me much. For good reason, of course.”

“He doesn’t,” Hermione said with a crooked smile, “But he’s coming around to giving you a shot. Harry had told him after the holiday party last weekend that you didn’t have anywhere to spend the holidays because you didn’t want to spend it with Lucius and I think it made him pause and consider what kind of change you must have gone through to refuse to be around your father. He agreed to ask his parents if they wouldn’t mind having you. They said you were more than welcome once he explained.”

“Everyone is going through too much trouble over this,” he said, looking down at his own hands to avoid her eyes, “I really don’t mind spending the holidays in the lab. It’s a good way to get some quality brewing and research in.”

“Nobody wants to spend the holidays alone, Draco, I think it’s just your way of blocking out the pain of not spending it with family. Like Susan with her travels.”

“Bold statement,” he said with a dark chuckle, almost impressed that she wasn’t afraid to call him out while still being uncomfortable with the notion of expressing how hard it was to turn away from the only family he had, no matter how awful of a person his father was.

“I’m not trying to be harsh, I just want to be real with you. I think you should come to the Weasleys. I won’t push it anymore… but if it makes a difference to you, _I’d_ really like you to be there.”

“I’ll think about it,” he finally said, “I do truly appreciate the gesture, it’s just not an easy decision.”

“Thank you,” she gave him a small smile.

“Now can we go back to talking about something more relaxing?”

“Yes,” she said with a twinkle in her eye, “I want you to tell me about what you were planning on making me for dinner.”

His grimace from the prior conversation turned quickly into a grin, “It was supposed to be a surprise, can’t go ruining it just because it’s got to wait, perhaps, for another time.”

“This means you can cook, though, I’m guessing?”

“Well, I’m a potions master, aren’t I? I’m decently skilled at mixing ingredients and following preparation instructions, so yes, I’m a good cook.”

“Can you tell me what cuisine it was going to be at least?”

He considered her, “French.”

“Fancy.”

“I know.”

“Where did you learn to cook?”

“Beaker, actually,” his shoulders were noticeably relaxing as he settled into the much lighter topic, “Like I said, I bought the house elves that run the kitchen station here from my father, so I’ve known Beaker, Lena and Pawny my whole life. The years I was back at the manor with my mother after Durmstrang, I started venturing down to the kitchens more often, trying to heed my readings and learn more about other creatures I’d never paid much mind to. They were very forgiving of my ignorance over the years. I was never mean to them, just ignored them as I was told they were simply there to serve.”

“That’s very nice, that you sought them out to make amends.”

“Least I could do. But Lena, she’s a funny one, always very sweet so I enjoyed my time down there observing. I finally asked Beaker if he could teach me the basics, which he was happy to do of course. I’ve tried to make some time to keep working on the skills and techniques he showed me over the years, even though the knives I’ve got aren’t the best quality; something I should look into,” he said more to himself as a side note before sighing, “Really, when I was living at the Manor I just went to work at the apothecary and tended to my mother. Didn’t do much else unless Pansy or Blaise dragged me out; always felt necessary when they did, mind you. But I spent a lot of time there trying to find something about the place to keep me sane and keep me from sitting in my den going down a dark path in my mind.”

“Yes, I understand that. Something we all have to actively fight against from time to time.”

“Hence the Social Tonic,” he said wryly, “But I like to cook. It passes the time. The more complicated the recipe, the better sometimes.”

“Life is about more than just passing the time, you know,” she quipped.

“I do know. For me, it’s about these potions and getting them right and into the hands of the people that need them.”

“And mine is about bettering life for the wizarding world one policy reform at a time,” Hermione nodded, “But maybe there’s even more to life than work, even _important_ work. Maybe we both need to explore that a little more.”

“And maybe we can explore it together,” he said nonchalantly.

Their eyes met, each with a grin, “This still isn’t the time for that conversation.”

“ _You_ implied it,” he shrugged.

“Au contraire, you _inferred_ it.”

The alarm on the brewing table sounded as it jumped up and down, pulling their focus.

“Time for a stir,” Draco said, getting up from the armchair as Hermione followed him. They stirred each potion three times clockwise and once counterclockwise before returning to their chairs.

“I just finished a book I think you’d enjoy,” Hermione said as she settled back into the plush cushions.

“Oh really? What’s it about?”

“It’s fiction, actually, a bit of a thriller, but there’s a character that reminded me of you. I’ll have to bring it for you.”

“Give me the premise, without spoiling anything, of course,” he stretched out his legs in front of him, crossing his ankles as he relaxed back into the soft fabric.

She proceeded to tell him about the book, which _did_ catch his interest, and they fell into their normal lab conversations of books and travels and stories until, before they knew it, the alarm jumped up for the last time.

“This potion will need to sit overnight now, so we can just portion them into a couple of vials and I’ll come back and do some cell testing in the morning.”

“Oh I was really hoping to see that part as well,” she said with a bit of disappointment in her voice.

“Well you can always come back, but I know you’ve got your holiday plans.”

“Dinner wouldn’t be til six, so maybe I can come for the morning and just observe the process. I’d hate to put in this much work not to see the results.”

He chuckled, “Alright, up to you. You’re always welcome. It’ll only take a few hours and we can start early.”

They portioned out the potions into vials, labeling them, and storing them in the glass cabinet for the evening before they began their cleanup phase, Hermione transfiguring the armchairs back into stools and placing them neatly under the table. They made some final notes on timing and color and consistencies before they finally left the lab, nearly ten hours after they’d first arrived.

As they stepped out into the cold winter air, Hermione shivered, “I’ve got to run home to feed Crookshanks quick, alright if I meet you at The Hungry Hippogriff in about ten minutes?”

“That works, it’s miserably cold so I’m just going to apparate over and grab a table. I’ll see you there.”

They both turned on the spot and disapparated.

Ten minutes later, Hermione walked into the restaurant, looking around before she spotted Draco near the back, weaving her way through the rows of tables, enjoying the cozy warmth of the new establishment.

She slid into the open seat at a table that was decently removed from the others, yet still quite visible so it wasn’t obvious they wanted private conversation. A younger waitress with a bright smile stopped by soon after they sat, taking their drink orders and returning a few minutes later with two mugs of hot butterbeer before she took their dinner orders.

“So,” Draco began casually as he took a sip of his drink, the liquid warming his whole body as it went, “Shall we jump right into how you’re feeling about exploring a physical relationship while working on this project together?”

Hermione almost laughed at how forward it was, but this was not a conversation to take lightly so she gave him more of a scolding grin, “Alright, yes, let’s talk about it,” she said, taking a deep breath and thinking about how to word everything she’d been thinking about for the last week.

O-o-o-o-o-o-o

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! Hope you enjoyed that brewing chapter, looking forward to getting the next installment out to you soon :) !!


	18. To Be or Not To Be

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See notes at the end for specific *Chapter Content Warning* - it includes spoilers which is why I'm not listing it up top, but if you'd rather know warnings beforehand - it's at the bottom!

Draco waited patiently for her to continue, looking significantly more relaxed on the outside than he felt. He _had_ given her a whole week to reconsider all the reasons she shouldn’t pursue this and there was a part of him that thought she may go with rationality over instinct. And he wouldn’t blame her for it, but at this point, it was her decision. He knew what he wanted and he had no problem articulating that.

“My answer hasn’t changed from last week,” she finally said, meeting his eyes with confidence, “I know there’s a risk to us… exploring… this connection between us, and it’s one I’d regret not taking.”

His lip pulled up as the weight of his nerves all but disappeared from his shoulders, “So you’re saying you’re interested in me, Granger?”

She raised her eyebrows, “Well I was, but not if you’re going to take that route as a response.”

He grinned, “Hermione, I’ve been falling for you since the first time you interrupted my presentation with thought-provoking, well-researched questions on my potions developments.”

Her haughty look softened and she smiled quite fondly at him, “That’s better.”

“So now that we’ve settled that debate, remind me why we had to come to dinner in public at a moment that I’d very much like to kiss you?”

She sighed, feeling a flush up creep her neck as she bit her lip gently, also wishing they could be enjoying a nice snog with those acknowledgments finally released, but knowing that wasn’t the end of the conversation, “Because we need to talk about boundaries and be on the same page for this to go forward, whether we both want it or not. I still need to know we can do this as appropriately as we’re able for something so inappropriate. And if we’re not on the same page, it can’t happen... _yet_ , at least.”

He let a long breath out of his nose, “Alright. How do we do this the right way?”

She cleared her throat a little, trying to refocus, “Well, I think if we can fully separate work from personal time, I’d feel better about it. When we’re in the office, we’re professional colleagues. I don’t want any blatant notions that we’re… together, even in your lab. I just want us to be professional. In general, our extracurriculars need to stay inconspicuous even to our friends because there could be serious repercussions if it gets out and I don’t want to take any chances. And that includes Pansy and Blaise as well as Harry and Ron,” she watched for a reaction as he nodded slowly, “And when we’re not in the lab, we obviously can’t really be in public romantically, but clearly we’re able to do things like this, or go out with friends, of course, we just need to remember to keep distance between us.”

“And we keep it quiet til the end of the project?” he understood the contingencies and had absolutely expected them, but as much sense as it made, it still felt like a bit of a letdown to have it solidified that they’d have to keep things hidden after holding these growing feelings in for months now.

“That’s the goal,” she sighed, “Unless something happens where I feel I have to be honest about it.”

He furrowed his eyebrows, “Like what?”

“Oh I don’t know, I’m just a terrible liar. But obviously the goal is to keep this private if we can as we’re just, you know, seeing where it goes anyway.”

He huffed out a laugh, “Your confidence in this is overwhelming.”

“I’m just being realistic,” she gave him a crooked smile, “But I wouldn’t even be considering risking it if I didn’t think there was potential to it, now would I?”

“For a night with me? I think you might.”

She rolled her eyes, ignoring him, “So do you agree with the boundaries? Like I said, I want to be on the same page or this just isn’t going to work from the beginning.”

“I’m on the same page,” he reassured her more seriously, “Obviously I’d like to be able to live our lives more in the open, but it’s not forever, it’s just a few months and there’s good reason behind it. I respect you and your career.”

“Thank you,” she said, appreciating that he wasn’t making this more difficult than it already was. She’d have liked to be out in the open with things as much as he would, but they just couldn’t right now. She hoped he didn’t feel like she was embarrassed to date him because that wasn’t the case at all, although she did know there would likely be some opposition from certain people at the Ministry. But she couldn’t think about that right now… it was so far out at this point and at the end of the day, it really didn’t matter.

“Two steak and kidney pies,” came the waitress’ voice as she set the dishes down in front of them before bustling off to the next table.

“I will say I’m a little disappointed that you specifically called out the lab as a work designation,” Draco said with a mischievous look, “I feel like I could make the argument for it being personal space. We will be spending a lot of time in there together, and I really think you’ll start to find it difficult to keep your hands off in such an enclosed space.”

“How _do_ you deal with that big head of yours?” Hermione looked at him in faux awe as she dug into her pie, “Acting as though I’ve got no self-restraint.”

“I saw the way you expertly untied my tie,” he said, his eyes meeting hers with a certain spark behind them, “I think I make you want to be just a little reckless, in a good way of course, and I think it’s a matter of time before you’re begging me to forget about that rule.”

“You know sometimes I think you’ve grown into such a wonderful, mature man… and then sometimes I see Draco Malfoy,” she said smartly, popping a bite into her mouth.

“The beautiful thing is that you get the whole package. You get the refined businessman as well as the lifetime Slytherin.”

“Aren’t I lucky,” she said flatly before her face became more serious again, “Are you worried at all about exploring our relationship with how it could look for your work?”

“No,” he said simply and her head cocked to the side, “As much as I depend on your oversight to meet the contingencies of our funding, we both know that our relationship didn’t start until months into the project and by the time it did, our progress had already been validated by the HPA approvals of three of our potions. And we will continue to have potions approved, which will only further validate that you in no way favored our company for the funding because of romantic feelings. You approved the funding prior to a romantic relationship and our progress is validated by third party approvals. They can come after me all they want, but I’m certainly not sleeping with the entire HPA team.”

“You better not be,” she raised her eyebrows playfully.

“Point of the matter is that I care about the impact on you, but I’m not worried about my potions or the funding because the train of events played out favorably to prove you’ve given us no biased favors in the process. We just need to stick to facts.”

“Alright,” Hermione nodded, “I’ll do some thinking on that and see if I find any angles you need to consider.”

“I’m sure you will,” he grinned at her, taking a sip of his drink.

They enjoyed their dinner, talking casually about the things they _could_ do while not bringing attention to their involvement, such as dinners at The Dragon Lair, as they were regulars there by now so it wouldn’t seem out of place, and dinners at home, of course, though they’d have to spend most of their time of his house as Harry was right next door to hers. They even talked about inconspicuous weekends trips interspersed enough for their friends not to notice their coincidental disappearances, which really did sound exciting.

As they paid their bill, splitting it as Hermione insisted, they gathered their things and left The Hungry Hippogriff, the bitingly cold wind from earlier more subdued now as night set in.

“So… would you like to come back to see my place now?” Draco asked innocently.

She considered him, “Yes, I think I would.”

“Well lucky for you, Wenlock Cove is quite close to here.”

“Lead the way.”

Draco looked thoughtfully over at her, “You know, a secret relationship does sound a little fun, if I’m being honest,” he said optimistically.

She looked over, “Does it? How so?”

“Well, we spend a good amount of time around each other which means we’ll have to consciously be subduing whatever… urges, we may have in the moment, so when we are able to express those feelings, everything will be heightened.”

“No pressure at least,” Hermione said with a laugh.

“It’s only natural.”

“So what are you subduing right now?” she quipped.

“The urge to pick you up and press your back to that wall over there while I ravage your body.”

Hermione laughed harder this time, “Gosh I do hope you’re joking.”

“Partially,” he looked over at her.

She thought for a moment, “Good.”

After a short walk, Draco turned up the steps of a modern looking brick townhouse, “This one’s mine.” Hermione followed him up the steps, her heart starting its normal course of increasing speed as the seconds til they were alone ticked down. He tapped his wand on the door before pushing it open and gesturing her in.

“Wow, it’s beautiful,” she said as she stepped past the threshold, taking in the sleek black and grey decor, which was accented by white marble pieces. It wasn’t warm, per se, but it was clean and deliberate; minimalistic but expensive. Much like her own flat, each item was perfectly and thoughtfully placed and the bookshelves were packed with an array of tomes that varied in subject matter. The furniture in the space was undoubtedly designer; uncomfortable looking but haughty. It looked quite like the house of someone who clearly had money but was unsuccessfully trying not to flaunt it.

“I have a certain aesthetic,” he replied.

“Yes, dark and brooding with a hint of luxury,” she nodded and he huffed a bit, “It works, though. It looks very put together.”

“Did you just come in to judge my residence?” he echoed her jibe from his last visit to hers.

“Yes,” she said before she shot him a smart look.

He grabbed her hand and pulled her to him with a smirk, “You are feisty tonight.”

“Always,” their eyes met, both light and unguarded with everything out in the open between them now and nothing standing in their way.

“I quite enjoy it,” he said in a low, playful voice, feeling like perhaps he should offer her a drink, but quickly picking up on the vibe that she didn’t much care for one right now as her arms snaked their way around the back of his neck.

Pretense cast aside, he leaned down and captured her lips softly, lingering there a moment as he took in the feeling of embracing their connection without hesitation. It wasn’t their first kiss, of course, but it somehow felt like it was. It was freeing and full of unspoken words; it was needy, but delicate and there was no longer a question of whether the niceties of drinks or casual conversation needed to be observed tonight. It seemed she’d come to finish what they’d started last time and he couldn’t be more thankful after waiting a week for her ultimate decision.

Her hand slid through his hair like silk and her breath settled on his lips as they parted, sharing another look of longing before he leaned into her again, their kisses deepening each time their lips came together, their hands starting to push off outward layers of clothing as he backed them towards the open door behind him before he finally pulled away, turning with a smoldering look and taking her hand to bring her into the next room where a four poster bed sat waiting for them. It was perfectly made, corners tucked in and pillows smoothed, completely unaware that it was about to be unceremoniously undone to accommodate something much more important.

The covers were thrown back as Hermione lifted her shirt over her head, sitting back on the edge of the bed. Draco mirrored her as he stepped closer, standing between her legs and placing his hands on either side of her on the sheets. His lips moved to her neck where they sucked gently on her exposed skin, an almost unnoticeable sigh escaping from her lips as he did. Her hands wound into his hair again, which was just long enough to grasp, as her mind started to clear; thoughts replaced with nothing but the sensations she was feeling in the moment. Her arms erupted in goosebumps as his teeth grazed lightly over her shoulder and her head lulled to the side as he made his way to the juncture of her neck and collarbone. 

When he captured her lips again, her hands moved down his stomach before finding the buckle on his belt, undoing it without looking as she made her way past it to the button on his jeans. His tongue brushed against hers with a groan before he pulled back to step out of his pants, his boxers going with them as she pushed her own bottoms off and moved back on the bed, Draco climbing over her, in awe all over again at the woman looking back at him. 

He pecked her lips hotly a few times, not wanting to rush any part of this, before moving to her chest, sprinkling kisses down her sternum and continuing south as he explored the curves and dips of her body, igniting each area of her flesh he passed. He loved the way her body tensed as he found each unique sensitive spot: the soft part of her stomach below her ribs; just above where her panty line should be; the inside of her thigh. He logged that information somewhere in the back of his mind that he’d now reserved specifically for memorizing these details. When he finally made his way back to her lips, he kissed her hungrily, her breath heavy as it poured into his mouth. She nibbled his lip that had caught between hers as an expression of desire she was unable to convey in words, and a noise that sounded something like a tantalizingly dark laugh emitted from his throat. 

“Last chance,” he teased, “You’re sure?”

“Let me put it this way,” she said in a breathy voice, “If you stop this again I won’t forgive you.”

He smiled wickedly down at her as he closed the gap once more, her kiss the most luscious thing he’d ever tasted as every movement of her fingertips etched itself like a drawing into his memory. He felt her hand move past his waistline and he grasped her hip beneath him as his eyes closed, trying not to get lost in the moment so he could focus on each invigorating touch. As they opened again, he took her in. Her cheeks were pink; mouth parted slightly in anticipation and her eyes were lit with a fire he had yet to experience. He mumbled some combination of expletives under his breath as he positioned himself more fully between her legs, her hand coming back up his body to grip his arm while the other was still somewhere lost in his hair. 

He pressed against her, checking in one more time for confirmation as she gave him a definitive nod that told him she didn’t want to wait another minute, her eyes closing and her head tilting back as he pushed into her, a sharp inhale of breath eliciting between her teeth. He paused just a moment before starting to work his way forward slowly as her body made to accommodate him. When he filled her completely, a more pronounced moan fell from her lips and her leg wrapped around his back to pull him even closer. 

He was pretty sure the world could have ended in that moment and he’d have died not needing a thing more in life. 

He pulled himself back and then slid in again slowly, a feeling of absolute bliss overtaking him as he fought to stay rooted to this world, but the feeling was overwhelming and he felt his thoughts slipping away into a jumbled haze as his pace quickened, leaning down to kiss her again, wanting to feel connected to every part of her.

The feeling of his tongue against hers as he moved inside her was overstimulating her brain, making it almost completely impossible to stifle the sounds that kept slipping from her lips in between kisses. She honed in on his bicep under her hand that flexed with each push forward and she gripped it tighter, her back arching into him as he came up over her again, his hair pulling from her fingers that subsequently made their way to his back as he repositioned himself. 

The way he looked down at her made her melt inside. There was passion in his gaze and an energy that drew her in so fully as she came to the conclusion that there was literally nowhere in the world she’d rather be than lost in unnecessarily high thread count sheets with this man. He pushed forward harder this time from a new angle and she didn’t even try to quiet herself as she moaned again, the sounds simultaneously praising his performance and goading him for more. 

And he had no problem complying with that request.

O-o-o-o-o-o-o

Draco brushed a strand of hair out of her face as they lay in bed, covers draped lightly over their bottoms halves, still partially in and out of kissing and talking as Draco leaned towards her on his side, enjoying the view of her hair sprawled over his pillows, “Have I told you that you’re beautiful yet?”

“No, I believe you told me my _dress_ was beautiful once, though.”

He chuckled, “Yeah, well, we were still riding that line of staying professional so it seemed like a roundabout way to tell you that _you_ looked beautiful.”

“It got the message across,” she looked up at him, almost paralyzed by the lightness in his eyes that seemed to radiate in the carefree smile he had on his face. It was a look she’d never seen on him before, but it was stunning. It reminded her of the first time she’d even see him smiling genuinely, when he’d come to tell her about the success of the Dimmer Potion.

“What’s on your mind?” He asked, noticing that she was studying him, a feeling he usually did not enjoy, but found he didn’t mind in the current environment.

“I was just thinking how rarely I see you look quite so… unburdened,” she said, “And how nice it is to witness. Your eyes have a kind of shine about them when you’re genuinely happy.”

He was trying to decide if she meant it as a compliment, or maybe it was just a statement, but either way it wasn’t untrue, “Well, I guess I wouldn’t say I’ve been genuinely happy very often in my life. Selfishly happy, or schemingly happy, as a kid, probably,” he nodded as he thought, “But I would say you’ve likely been present for a decent amount of the times I _have_ been genuinely happy.”

“I hope I see it more,” she said, “There’s blue in your eyes, you know. It really comes out when you’re happy for some reason.”

“Must just be the lighting,” he gave her a crooked smile, “My eyes have always been quite grey.”

“I wish you could see them how I do,” she said, and he wondered if what she really meant was _‘I wish you could see_ you _how I do’_.

“Well that’s why I’ve got to keep you around I guess, to relay these things I’ve overlooked.”

“I’m very detail oriented so I’ll make sure to point it out.”

He grinned, leaning down for another kiss as she sighed contentedly against his lips.

“Why is this worth the risk to you?” He asked as he settled back on his elbow again, now a bit caught up in his head about her statement on his lack of genuine happiness, “Why do you think I’m worth it for something that could impact your job that you love?”

“Well,” her fingers brushed lightly down his arms as she thought about how best to answer him, “I guess I’ve just never felt quite so… _much_ from someone like I do from you; Intellectually, physically; just completely stimulated. I could talk to you for hours about any number of interesting subjects. You have this wide breadth of knowledge and your opinions and feelings, they’ve all got… depth to them. You’re a mystery and an open book,” she took in the way he was looking back at her, like he really needed to understand why, out of all the wizards out there worthy of her time, she’d be there with him after everything he’d done, “And I think I’d regret not giving this its chance because as I said before, sometimes there’s more to life than even _important_ work. That statement comes from the way _you_ make me feel; And it’s a feeling I didn’t even know I needed. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been very happy with my life and my work and I don’t need anyone to make me whole. But you make me feel like even with this full life I have, there’s still something that can make it better; put a twist on it and make me feel more alive and impassioned.”

Even his own overwhelming insecurities couldn’t keep the smile from creeping back to his features at her response, “I know you’re strong and whole on your own and I know you certainly don’t need me, and the fact that you still want to explore our connection makes me feel like I’ve done something right on the path I’ve taken the last twelve years. Much the opposite from you, I am not whole,” it was a simple, yet difficult statement, but he wanted to be as open with her as she was being with him, “I don’t think I ever have been and I’m not sure I ever will be, but I’ve been trying to put myself together for a long time and there’s something about you that feels like the light I’ve been missing to find the rest of the pieces.”

“I’m not here to try to fix you, Draco, I’m here because of who you already are. And that man is someone you cultivated and grew into all on your own.”

He warred with himself over a response; his self-deprecating nature versus his pride in everything he’d worked towards. He settled, instead, on leaning down for another long kiss that said everything that needed to be said of his appreciation for her unwavering compassion. His hand cupped her face as his thumb brushed gently down the side, her own hand making its way up to rest on his. He certainly did not deserve Hermione Granger, but he was going to do everything in his power to show her he was doing his best.

“Do you want to stay tonight?” He asked when he finally pulled back.

“Would you like me to stay?” She said as a smile played at her lips.

“ _Will_ you stay tonight?” He corrected himself.

“Yes, your bed is quite comfortable,” she leaned on her side and he pulled her flush against him.

“I’ll try to make sure we get some sleep on it then, but I make no promises,” he captured her lips again and she draped her leg over his in contented agreement.

“We’ll have to get some eventually,” she said between kisses, “We’ve got some exciting cell testing in the morning.”

He sighed, “It is an exciting one, isn’t it? Alright, we should get ready for bed soon, then. But first… a nightcap?”

She laughed, “Might help me get to sleep in a new place.”

“I’ll be back,” he grinned as he hopped off the bed, not even bothering to put on his boxers as he strode out towards what she assumed was the kitchen.

She lay back on his luxurious bed, looking up at the dark grey canopy as a broad smile plastered itself onto her face again. She didn’t feel a single ounce of regret. She just felt completely… happy. Just _happy_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Chapter Content Warning - Mature/Semi-Explicit Sexual Content - (also, if anyone feels the content warrants this story to be rated E vs. M could you let me know? I toyed between the 2 ratings but felt like it didn't push far enough for the E rating, but I'm certainly open to opinions and recommendations on the matter since I want it to be appropriately tagged!!! Thanks!)*
> 
> Okay now the post-chapter A/N: 
> 
> AH! Gosh I've edited and re-edited this chapter so many times. Hope you enjoyed it!! Look out for the next early in the weekend again.
> 
> Also, you can find me on Tumblr @GinnyFix21 . I just started the account about a month ago because I learned that fanfic has always had a nice home on Tumblr! Can't believe I never knew. Anyway, I'm there now, and have been decent so far about posting when I upload new chapters!


	19. On the Brain

“So,” Draco began as he unlocked a cupboard high above the counter and summoned three of the jars within, “This cell testing is going to be a little different.”

Hermione watched as he placed the jars on the table with wide eyes before she looked back at him as he shut and relocked the top cupboard, “Why are there brains in those jars?”

“Well, we’re trying to fix the brain, aren't we? Probably should test that on a brain.”

“Sorry, wrong question. How do you have jars of brains in your lab?”

“You can buy them for a hefty price from St. Mungo’s,” he said dryly, “The addled ones aren’t available very often, as you’d imagine, so they’re difficult to get and you can really only use them a few times to test on, assuming you don’t really fuck something up early on.”

“Today is going to be much weirder than I imagined. Why do we need three?”

“Two of these are the brains of people who were cursed — irreversible memory charms for both if I remember correctly — and the third is a healthy brain.”

“But definitely… dead?” She said a little unsurely.

“Definitely dead, just preserved with some charms that make it mimic a live brain.”

“Creepy.”

“Very,” he agreed, “But also necessary for our research, unfortunately. So what we’ll do is apply the potion to this part of the brain,” he levitated a brain out of its jar and onto a raised platform on the table before pointing to something on the side, “Which is where any initial impact will naturally be absorbed first. From there we give it about an hour and then we can pull out a cell from over here,” he pointed to the other side of the brain, “Where the potion should flow to, assuming it’s not overpowered by the dissolvent. We’ll do that for each of the two versions of the potion, of course.”

“And how will we know the effectiveness?”

“Well first, we’re going to extract one cell from the healthy and one from a cursed brain, respectively, before we apply the potion,” he gave her a dry smile that indicated this would not be the fun part of the day and she grimaced back at him, almost regretting her interest in accompanying him today, “And then after the potion sets in, about an hour from now, we’ll extract another from each of the cursed brains and compare them to the first two to see if it made a difference. Cursed cells always have a bit of a film on them; its quite hard to miss the discoloration, but there’s more specific attributes as well that I’ll show you when we extract the first two. After today’s comparison I’ll probably check a cell every day for the next couple of weeks to see if there are any changes. In a month if all goes well, I’ll start the search for real patients to test on.”

“How will you do that?”

“I’ll contact St. Mungo’s and they’ll connect me, anonymously, with the families of some of their Long-Term Ward patients and we’ll send an owl to each explaining generally what we’re working on and asking if they’d be interested in signing up their family member for a trial.”

“You know I… know a couple of people who would benefit from this. I could ask ahead of time so we have someone lined up. I’m not positive, of course, that their family member would say yes, but it’s worth a shot.”

“Sure, that would be a big hurdle to jump to have someone ready to test when we’re confident in the potion,” he nodded with interest, trying not to think too hard on who she would know with irreversible brain damage.”

Draco and Hermione set up the testing station before Draco started the extraction process from the healthy brain, which seemed like a combination of complex charms to isolate and pull a single cell cleanly before hovering it in one of the Petri dishes. Hermione tried to watch, but couldn't deny it was just a bit gruesome. He repeated the charms on the second and third brains and in a thankfully short period of time, that step was over and they moved on to injecting a bit of the potion to the spot Draco had pointed out earlier as it was absorbed, moving on to the second cursed brain with the second version of the potion.

“So I want to show you these two cells a bit more up close,” Draco said as he waved her over to the Petri dishes.” He proceeded to show her the coloration differences between the healthy and cursed cells that was visible to the naked eye, as well as point out of some of the physical features of curses that were only visible through a microscope he’d set up off to the side, “Once we’ve given the potion a little time to work its way through, we’ll compare those cells to these two and determine if there are any changes.”

“And for now, we wait?” Hermione asked.

“For now we wait,” he confirmed, setting down his tools and pulling off his gloves as she did the same, both sets being disposed of before they washed their hands and cleaned all the tools they wouldn’t need anymore. They moved the stools away from the lab table for a bit of a mental break before finally sitting down to give the potion time to disperse.

“So, have you decided if you’re coming to the Weasleys tonight?” 

Draco sighed, looking like he was still internally debating giving her his answer before he finally said, “Yes, I’ll come.”

Her face lit up, “Oh that’s wonderful! I’ll be honest, I wasn’t expecting you to. But I’m so happy you are.”

“Well I thought of a decent peace offering to give them for Christmas tomorrow, so I thought I’d muster the courage to attend.”

“You don’t need a peace offering,” she laughed, “They’re happy to have you.”

“I doubt that. But it’s very kind of them.”

Hermione proceeded to tell him about the normal schedule for the night, trying to prepare him for the activities while not overwhelming him with details. Christmas at the Burrow really was a magical experience.

An hour later, the jumping alarm pulled them from their conversation and they returned to the lab table as Draco extracted a new cell from each of the cursed brains and moved them into their own Petri dishes.

“Alright,” Draco said as he pointed to the cell extracted from the bloodroot and doxy egg mixture, “So this one we can see a slight coloration change already. That film over it looks like it dissolved a good amount, actually for just the first hour. That’s a great sign,” he pulled the bloodroot mixture cell forward, turning it a bit with his wand, “And this one you can see that film completely dissolved… but the coloration went a bit past the hue we were looking for. We wanted it to go from grey to pink and this is near-white. That’s a sign of it being a bit too strong. It dissolved the curse fully, it seems, but it’s also dissolving part of the cell.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” Hermione noted.

“It’s not,” he agreed, “That means that whatever cognitive function is normally there would be decreased by this potion. Maybe not fully. Maybe just marginally or maybe not even noticeably. But there’s no way to know the level of impact without trials and I’m not sure I’d be comfortable sending this to trials.”

“Sorry the bloodroot idea was kind of a flop,” Hermione said with a sigh.

“A flop?” He looked over at her incredulously, “I disagree. I think it was a great idea. The first cell we looked at is really promising with the mix of bloodroot and doxy eggs. I’ve done just doxy eggs once before and it barely dissolved the film because the whole potion couldn’t make it to that side of the brain with the rate it was dissolving the other ingredients that were supposed to get it there. This one definitely made it there and is working efficiently at dissolving the film. I’m really curious to see what this looks like in another day, even another hour. But I don’t want to waste the cells so I’ll wait until tomorrow for my second observation. Your idea was anything but a flop, Hermione. I think it was a really good step to get us to the potion we brewed. If I’d just increased the doxy eggs like I was planning to originally, I don’t think much more would have made it to the other side because of the dissolvant, it was just the only thing I could think to try without stumbling upon the bloodroot.”

She gave him a grateful smile, “You really think the bloodroot could be the key?”

“I really think the potion we brewed could be exactly what we were envisioning, and that’s because of the bloodroot.”

They took down some key notes on the cell features and changes before they began cleaning up their materials, stowing the brains securely back into their jars and replacing them in the locked cupboards.

“So was the cell testing today as exciting as you’d hoped?” Draco asked as they left the lab for the day.

“It was definitely a good… learning experience,” she said with a look.

“Brain stuff is not so easy on the stomach,” he acknowledged, “But you could argue it's the most important of them all.”

“I know,” she nodded, “Like I said, good learning experience, not something I’d want to do every day.”

He grinned over at her as he pushed the door of the building open for her to step out into the afternoon chill, “Had to do something to quell your desire for me in the lab.”

“ _Draco_ ,” she said warningly.

“What? We are technically out of the office now,” he said as he stepped over the threshold of the door and closed it behind them.

Her lips pulled into a thin smile, “Toeing that line.”

“Always,” he shot her a wink as they began walking, their paths home aligning for the first five minutes before they’d split off, “I’ve got to make a stop on my way home to get ready for the evening but I think I’ve got enough time,” he looked at his watch, shaking it a bit as a few of the dials rearranged themselves, “Six you said?”

“Six,” she confirmed with a bright smile, “I left the address for the Weasleys on your refrigerator this morning.”

“Can I just say, I very much enjoyed walking into my kitchen to you in my t-shirt, making coffee.”

“Well after the omelette you brought me in bed, it only seemed fair,” she said coyly. She knew he’d only offered her his t-shirt as she got up because he _wanted_ to see her in it. And that was certainly something she did not mind playing into.

"Don't expect that kind of service every time you stay over, I was just in a good mood this morning."

"I'll have to try and keep you in a good mood then, increase my chances of more catered breakfast."

Draco turned abruptly into an empty alleyway and Hermione did a double take before following him hesitantly, looking around her first to make sure no one had spotted them.

“Draco what are you doing,” she chided in a whisper before he grabbed her hand and pulled her to him.

“You’ve got me thinking about you in nothing but a t-shirt now,” he said in a low voice as he leaned down to capture her lips.

“You did that to yourself,” she whispered back with a grin, giving in quite happily to his spontaneous ploy as she kissed him back.

He held her tightly against him as he focused on the feeling of her lips warming his whole body even as the wind whipped down the alleyway. She relaxed into him, her arms wrapping around his back as they stood there embracing and letting the world melt away just for a minute.

“Weren’t you on a time crunch?” She asked quietly against his lips.

He sighed, “Yes, but this seemed important to fit in before I go. Especially since we can’t be together like this at the Weasley’s,” he paused a moment, “I still can’t believe I’m about to spend Christmas at the Weasley’s.”

“But you are,” she grinned, “It’ll be fun, really.”

“I’m going in open minded.”

“Good,” she kissed him one more time before she stepped back, “I really do need to get home to get ready as well.”

“Alright,” he conceded, squeezing her hand that had slipped into his as she moved back, “Let’s go.”

They emerged from the alleyway, continuing their walk another two blocks before they split ways.

Hermione arrived home a short time later, hoping her shower would wash the image of brains out of her head, but to no avail. She’d dressed and gathered the packages she’d wrapped a few days prior, fitting them neatly into her bag with an undetectable extension charm. As she set the last one inside, a knock came at her door and she got up to answer it.

“Hey Hermione!” Harry said, Pansy at his side with her hands coolly in her pockets.

“Hi, were you about to head to the Weasley’s?”

“We were,” he nodded, “Figured I’d try you one more time before we left.”

“Sorry did you stop by earlier?” She asked as she gestured them inside and shut the door from the wind.

“Twice,” Pansy said with a bit of a grin, looking around Hermione’s apartment appraisingly, “What have you been up to today?”

“Oh I was at the lab with Draco doing some testing on that really interesting Brain Elixir potion.”

“Harry stopped by at seven in the morning,” Pansy noted, “You weren’t here.”

“Why would you stop by at seven?” Hermione said with a chuckle to buy herself time. It wasn't completely unusual, but of _all_ the days.

“Came back with coffee for Pansy this morning and figured I’d pick you up one as well since you’re usually an early riser. But it didn’t seem you were home,” Crookshanks had made her way into the room and was rubbing up against Harry’s leg as Pansy eyed the cat.

“Oh, yeah I actually couldn’t sleep last night so I got up much earlier, six or so, went for a walk to the park near downtown and did some reading before I went into the lab.”

“Are you dating someone, Granger?” Pansy asked, turning her attention back to her and looking quite interested, “You could have just told me last weekend when I was trying to set you up with Draco.”

“No, no, it’s nothing like that,” Hermione said a little uncomfortably, “Like I said, just couldn’t sleep, went out for a walk.”

“Are you all packed for the night?” Harry asked, oblivious to Hermione’s discomfort while Pansy continued to look curiously at her.

“Yes, I’ve just finished packing away gifts so I'll grab my coat and we can apparate together.”

“I heard Neville and Luna are stopping by on Christmas Day,” Harry mentioned as she returned from the other room with her jacket.

“Oh that will be lovely! I haven’t seen them since dinner at Ron’s back in September.”

“Maybe you can reintroduce him to Draco. You know, in case a position ever opens up.”

“At the lab? What position?” Pansy asked.

“At the lab,” Hermione nodded as she slipped her arms through her coat and started buttoning it up, “Neville’s been studying Herbology for years under Sprout and working with Slughorn consulting on herbology for potions. I just thought it’d be a good introduction.”

“Well I don’t ever see Adrien leaving Draco’s side, but it never hurts, I guess. Can’t wait to see how Longbottom takes to Draco these days.”

“I’ve explained that Draco’s changed, of course,” Hermione said, “He was very open to hearing about positions if anything should arise at the lab.”

“Interesting,” Pansy nodded slowly, “I certainly don’t mind reacquainting with old classmates,” she grinned wickedly at Harry who couldn’t help but return it.

“Shall we go then?” Hermione sighed as she picked up Crookshanks, who would be joining for the holiday.

The three left her flat and at the bottom of the stairs, they apparated to the field near the burrow, where they began their walk to the beginning of the Christmas festivities.

O-o-o-o-o-o-o

“Come in, come in! There’s hot cocoa already heating on the stove,” said Molly jovially as she ushered them into the house, pulling Hermione into a hug after she’d set Crookshanks down, who bounded off towards the noise coming from the next room. As Hermione followed after her, Molly moved on to Harry, who then introduced her to Pansy, “So nice to meet you dear, welcome!” She said as she pulled Pansy into a hug as well, Pansy looking quite unsure how to react to such a warm gesture.

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Weasley,” she patted her back.

They moved through the kitchen and into the living room where most of the other attendees were already strewn about on couches and chairs talking animatedly, Crookshanks finding a spot right by the fire to curl into a contented ball. A large tree sat in the corner, the top foot or so bending at a ninety degree angle to fit under the ceiling. It was decorated with a hodgepodge of different colored, sized, and shaped ornaments, most of which looked homemade, and a figurine of a garden gnome in a tutu sat on the makeshift tip of the tree. At least Hermione hoped it was a figurine and not a real gnome that George had charmed; it wouldn’t be the first time.

“This is so… homey,” Pansy said, looking around at the mismatched and oversized furniture and the array of red headed adults whose conversations paused at the voice as everyone swiveled.

“Hermione! Harry!” Came a chorus of different voices as everyone started getting up and pulling them all into more hugs, Harry doing his best to continue to introduce, or re-introduce, Pansy to the group. Everyone was welcoming, although some were a bit awkward with how to welcome a Slytherin into the home. Pansy would be good practice however, for when Draco showed up.

“Talk about an upgrade!” Ginny slapped Harry’s arm jokingly.

“Oh stop, Gin,” he said sheepishly, knowing she was joking but not at all feeling the two were even comparable with how beautiful they each were in their own ways.

“Well I’m no international Quidditch Player,” Pansy said smoothly as Harry had warned her Ginny was likely to comment.

“I already like you much better than I did at Hogwarts,” Ginny flipped her hair over her shoulder with a laugh, pulling Pansy in for a hug, “Make yourself at home, mum’s got dinner in the oven so we’re all just catching up over cocoa.”

“Thank you,” Pansy said as Harry pulled her over to introduce her to Bill and Fleur.

“Gosh, how did he land Pansy Parkinson? She’s very attractive now, really grew into that pug face she had in school,” Ginny said to Hermione once they’d finished their elongated overly tight hug hello. She hadn’t seen Ginny since their dinner at Ron’s, which felt like months ago now and was so glad she’d been able to make it.

“ _Ginny_ ,” Hermione gave her a scolding look but laughed, “It was very interesting, actually, I was there for it. She sat down and they started talking and it was just sparks. I was in shock. Kind of still am, but he’s really happy. And Pansy’s grown on me, she’s very smart and easy to have a conversation with, albeit a bit intimidating with all that confidence.”

“I’m glad he’s happy, he deserves the world,” Ginny said with a broad smile.

“What’s been new with you?”

“Well we wrapped up the season two weeks ago so I’ve been home helping mum and dad with some house projects. I’ll go back to my flat after the new year but it’s a nice change, being home where it’s quiet.”

“I’m sure it is after living on the road and constantly being on a training schedule.”

“I enjoy that life while I’m in it, and then I come back and I enjoy it so much here. It’s a good balance.”

“Hermione!” Hannah called as she and Ron walked down the stairs to join everyone, Finn perched on her hip. She came over and engulfed Hermione in another hug before Ron took her place, “Happy Christmas Eve!”

“Happy Christmas Eve,” she replied, “Finn looks tired.”

“Yes, he’s already exhausted, of course, too much stimulation,” Hannah sighed, “We’ll get him through dinner and then put him to bed,” she set him down and he rubbed his eyes with a yawn before walking over to see what his cousins were up to across the room.

“And then we can enjoy a few glasses of firewhiskey,” Ron added in when Finn was out of earshot.

Hannah giggled, “A nice adult drink sounds wonderful right now. Did you hear Susan’s coming?”

“I thought she was in Egypt?” Hermione furrowed her brows.

“Apparently there was a country-wide alert that went out about vampire activity in the area and she figured better safe than supper! Especially since Ron had extended the invitation to join for the holidays and she knew she had a backup.”

“Well that’s unfortunate about the vampire activity, but I’m glad she could make it.”

Hermione heard another formal knock at the door through the noise and gestured to it as Ron nodded in understanding that she wanted to try and facilitate Draco’s entrance.

She walked back into the kitchen as Molly was pulling the door open. Draco stood on the other side of it in another pair of tailored jeans and a crisp grey pea coat that he'd left fashionably unbuttoned, putting his black cashmere sweater on display while a matching cashmere scarf hung lazily over his shoulders. He gave Molly a cordial smile that portrayed confidence even though his stiffness highlighted his tension, “Good evening, Mrs. Weasley, I’ve brought a bottle of French champagne.”

O-o-o-o-o-o-o

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed that chapter! Just wanted to let you all know that updates will likely be weekly (Fri or Sat) for the next month as I head into ‘busy season’ at work (yay accounting! - no, I don’t do taxes so I can’t help you with yours; I can barely do my own.) I’m excited to get these holiday chapters out to you, I had a LOT of fun writing them as I’ve always wanted to write a “Draco goes to the Weasleys for Christmas” scene but none of my prior fics have ever warranted the scenario!! 
> 
> Come find me on Tumblr @GinnyFix21 
> 
> Stay well xx


	20. The Rogue Weasley

“Oh this is so lovely!” Molly looked at the bottle of champagne excitedly as she accepted it from Draco, “Where are my manners, welcome Draco, come in!” Molly waved him along as he stepped in. Once over the threshold, she pulled him into her normal Molly-hug and Draco looked momentarily surprised as he locked eyes with Hermione over her shoulder. He patted Molly’s back similar to Pansy before she let him go, closing the door behind him, “Sweet of you to bring such a nice gift.” 

“Thank you for having me, it was a very kind gesture,” he said politely as Hermione reached them.

“Draco, Happy Christmas Eve,” Hermione said, pulling him in for her own, much more comfortable hug.

“Happy Christmas Eve,” he said, sounding relieved that she was there.

“Everyone is through the door in the living room,” Molly said, rubbing his back as she pointed in the general direction, “Make yourself at home, we’re glad you could join us.”

“Thank you,” he said again as Hermione grabbed his hand and pulled him forward.

“Susan’s coming,” she said brightly, casually dropping his hand as they reached the next room.

“That’ll be nice to have her here.”

The noise in the room quieted again as Draco entered and heads swiveled as everyone looked a bit unsure how to greet him. 

“Everyone, Draco will be joining us for the holidays this year, which I’m sure Mrs. Weasley mentioned,” Hermione said, trying to ease the awkwardness.

Harry got up first from his conversation with George and Angelina and he and Pansy walked over with hugs and Christmas wishes, Ron and Hannah joining as Ron shook Draco’s hand awkwardly but firmly as a gesture, to which Draco gave him a crooked smile to signify his respect.

Percy was the next to give in, walking over and giving Draco warm words of welcome, knowing all too well what a holiday without family was like from his early years at the Ministry. 

_Most_ of the rest of the Weasley crew made their way over, welcoming Draco with handshakes, and introductions for the older Weasleys. Overall it was a little tense, but it was clear they’d all been briefed that he was coming and asked to keep an open mind. George was the most uncertain in his handshake, clearly doing his best to put the past aside but not fully committed. One Weasley, however, slipped past the group and back into the kitchen without a greeting.

Draco eyed Ginny as her red hair disappeared through the doorway, but tried not to react like the punch in the gut that it was. A deserved punch in the gut, he knew, but uncomfortable all the same.

“Draco, welcome to our home,” Arthur said as he held his hand out, redirecting Draco’s thoughts. He hesitated only briefly with a pang of guilt before he shook Arthur’s hand. The amount of grief his family had given the man in front of him was almost incalculable, but here he was welcoming Draco into their house and Draco felt nothing but the utmost respect for him; though this was every bit as difficult as he’d anticipated.

“Thank you, sincerely, for having me.”

“Think nothing of it, the more the merrier,” Arthur gestured the group back over to the sitting area and they all settled back in, Hermione taking one of the armchairs while Draco sat against the arm as Harry struck up conversation to ease the density in the atmosphere, taking up residence on the sofa next to them. He draped his arm over the back of the couch around Pansy, who was sitting quite properly beside him, clearly trying to keep their normal PDA to a minimum to make a good impression.

Hermione could tell by Draco’s posture that he was still quite tense, his hands clasped in front of him to appear casual, but his jaw locked as he listened to Harry tell him a funny story from the work week involving a niffler wreaking havoc in a muggle landfill. She’d seen Ginny quietly leave the room as well and was sure he’d noticed. She’d have to try and sit down with Ginny later and at least relay her positive experience with Draco and the rest of the Slytherins she’d been working with. 

Ron and Hannah had settled close by to listen in to Harry’s story while George and Angelina fell back into their conversation with Bill and Charlie on the increased dragon breeding over the summer months, George glancing over towards the couch here and there with intrigue as though trying to figure out the mystery that was Draco Malfoy.

“—They’re so helpful for controlled burns in the Amazon, especially with how hot it’s been getting over there, we’re just anticipating the need for future years,” Charlie was explaining.

Fleur and Percy’s wife Audrey sat on the floor with Freddie, Roxanne, Dominique, Louis and Finn, who were gathered in a circle engrossed with a toy snitch that was bewitched to fly around them as they grabbed for it whenever it passed. Fleur’s daughter Victoire, who was now ten and the oldest of the kids by a few years, sat with her nose buried in a book against Fleur’s shoulder.

Victoire’s head popped up in a moment of thought, “Mommy, is Teddy coming over for dinner?”

“No, my sweetheart, but Mrs. Tonks will be bringing him in the morning for Christmas Day.”

Draco’s ears perked up as he caught her words and he leaned down to Hermione as Harry and Pansy were caught up in their own brief side conversation about the niffler’s motivations, “Did I just hear that the Tonks are coming tomorrow?”

“Mmhmm,” she looked up at him with a smile, “Tradition. Teddy is Lupin’s little boy.”

Draco felt his chest tighten slightly, “...And Nymphadora’s,” he said uncomfortably as Hermione did a double take at his mention of the late Tonks, “Teddy is technically my… first cousin once removed. And Andromeda… she’s my aunt.”

Something clicked in understanding behind Hermione’s eyes at his statement, “Oh, Draco I completely forgot. I’m sorry, are you on good terms with her?”

“Honestly I haven’t talked to her since I was a small child. Her and my mother had a falling out over my father before I was ever born. They tried to reconcile one year and, again because of my father, it didn’t go well. That was the last time I saw her.”

“Well I’m sure she’ll be glad to see you here,” Hermione said with a reassuring look, “Maybe it’ll be a good chance to reconnect.”

“It’s a bit farfetched, don’t you think, Hermione?” Came Harry’s voice, pulling their attention back.

“Sorry, I missed the first part,” she shook her head a little as Harry repeated his thoughts on which of the items they found in the landfill they guessed the niffler was after.

A few minutes later, Ginny returned to the living room, joining Fleur and Audrey on the floor with the kids to play the part of Aunt for a while. Draco watched her as she passed by, noticing quite clearly that she was avoiding his eye. A part of him wished he hadn’t come, knowing now that his presence was making the youngest Weasley so uncomfortable. But that’s what he’d tried to explain to Hermione when she’d brought it all back up.

“Fancy seeing you here, Susan,” Pansy quipped as Susan walked in with a broad smile.

“Happy Christmas, everyone!” Susan said, waving to the room at large as everyone waved back with holiday greetings, Hannah getting up to pull Susan into a hug.

“Finally another Hufflepuff at the Weasley Christmas celebration!”

Another half an hour passed before Mrs. Weasley, who had continuously been shooing everyone who offered to help out of the kitchen, called them all to the magically extended table that wrapped around the whole room. Everyone chose their seats, Draco and Hermione sitting next to each other at one end of the table by Susan, Harry, Ron, their respective families, as well as Arthur. Ginny sat as far away as possible on the other side of the table by Molly, George, Percy, Bill and Charlie.

The table was covered in plates and bowls filled with an array of home cooked comfort foods that Draco couldn’t even pretend he wasn’t excited to dig into. The noise level quickly escalated as conversations resumed and kids started complaining about having to eat their veggies before the pies that would come out with dessert. Mr. Weasley was in the process of asking Harry about the purpose of an iPod, which was an item they’d recently confiscated that he’d never seen before.

“It’s, erm, just a device that plays music. Dudley gave me one last Christmas, actually.”

“Music?!” Mr. Weasley laughed with a shake of his head, “Like a record player? That little thing?”

“Muggles are quite innovative at making their everyday items pocket sized.”

“Well this one shot sparks out of it every time you hit the little button in the middle. I thought maybe it was a — what did you call the thing that turns on the tekelvision? A remote?”

“Yes, a remote turns on a _television_ ,” Harry said with a grin, “But an iPod is different. It really just plays music, but only if you plug in headphones.

“Headphones?”

“Pansy, dear,” came Mrs. Weasley’s voice, interrupting Mr. Weasley’s riveting questions and quieting most of the other conversations around the table with interest, “What is it that you do? I’ve been so looking forward to meeting you since Harry told us he met a nice girl.”

Pansy tried to keep her smirk at being called a _nice girl_ inconspicuous, “I’m the Vice President of Sales and Marketing for our marketable potions segment at Draconis Laboratories. It’s the developmental potions company that Draco owns,” she said with a nod towards him across the table.

“Oh isn’t that nice to have some camaraderie around the office,” Molly said, “And Vice President at your age, that’s very impressive.”

“We all work hard over there. Susan also works with us as our administrative assistant, receptionist and all around voice of reason.”

Susan smiled warmly back at Pansy, who winked at her.

“Well we must have half the company here tonight, what with Hermione putting in her time over there as well, as I hear it.”

“It’s been great working at the lab,” Hermione chimed in as she finished a sip of her wine, “They’re all so passionate about what they do. Really interesting stuff they’re working on.”

“What kind of stuff?” George asked curiously, warming a little as he remembered Draco was also an entrepreneur, one thing they could find common ground on, and one thing he could thoroughly respect.

“Well,” Draco cleared his throat a little as everyone looked at him, “We’ve got your normal everyday potions that we brew and sell to local apothecaries. That’s what Pansy oversees; All of the apothecary relations and the general brewing department quotas. And then we’re working on a line of developmental potions aimed at… trauma. Sleep aids, mind clearers, mood enhancers, that sort of thing.”

“He’s being a bit modest,” Hermione looked over at him as he caught her eye warily, “He’s also working on some significantly more complex potions to counteract dark magic and curses. Not that they’re not _all_ impressive, but there’s a few that are just brilliant; really life-changing.”

“If only they could work retroactively,” Ginny said airily as Draco sighed next to Hermione. He’d been a bit apprehensive to share some of the more complex potions as they felt like a reminder of the dark magic and curses he had once used himself.

“ _Ginny_ ,” Molly scolded her quietly as Ginny reached for another scoop of potatoes, unphased.

“No, it’s alright, I understand the comment. It’s not undeserved,” Draco said, looking down the table trying to keep his head high, hoping to combat the uncomfortable feeling with confidence in the responsibility he held for it all.

“Well not one that’s needed over dinner,” Molly said with a warm smile at him, “When did you start your company, Draco?”

“About five years ago. This year should be pivotal for us to get our dark magic line through HPA approvals and onto shelves.”

“What’s the market for that kind of stuff?” Bill asked, “I’m sure you could charge a hefty price for potions that counteract dark magic.”

“Our business partners have shown interest in the final product so I have no doubt it’ll get the shelf space when it’s ready. One potion specifically we’ve already gotten a large contingent pre-order for, from the Auror department,” Harry looked at him with interest and he gave him a crooked smile back, “And I’m sure we could charge a nice price for the rest of the line, but I’d like to keep them attainable for all incomes. Someone’s income shouldn’t come in between them and a remedy they need.”

“If it were up to me and my marketing tactics, they would be priced a bit higher than we’re currently estimating,” Pansy said with a thin smile at Draco that indicated it had certainly been a topic of conversation, “But Draco was very adamant about doing some market research on prices wizarding families are willing and able to pay for potions. As long as we’re covering costs and bringing in a respectable profit, I was willing to compromise since his reasoning was so valiant.”

Hermione noticed that Ginny looked quite over this whole conversation as she cut into the pork on her plate a bit roughly.

“Well that is lovely,” Molly said brightly, “I’m very much looking forward to hearing about all of these potions when they’re done.”

“George, didn’t you say the joke shop was having its best year yet?” Ginny asked, taking the opportunity to redirect the conversation.

“Oh yeah,” George grinned, “We’ve had steady growth every year but this year has been steeper than all the others for some reason. Business is flourishing.”

“Lee’s been such a big help with the shop since George brought him on a couple years ago, as well,” Angelina added in, “Now that we’ve got two running around it’s been especially helpful. When Roxanne was a baby it was a bit easier for George to bring her in for quick stops when he was needed, but she’s all over the place now; Accidentally set off a dung bomb last time he ran in to take care of something.”

“A real toddler, and definitely my daughter,” George looked fondly at Roxanne, who was in the midst of hiding a piece of broccoli under her napkin.

“Lee manages a lot of the in-store day to day now so George can focus on developing new products, which he does mostly from home with the kids, and keeping an eye on the sales stats and inventory a bit more to make sure he’s optimizing his big sellers.”

“Developing is the fun part, the kids love watching me test out products,” George said with a mischievous look as Angelina chided him with her gaze.

Side conversations slowly started picking back up as Arthur asked Ron and Harry about some of the raids he’d been hearing about the last few weeks.

Draco leaned over to Hermione, “Ginny really doesn’t like me,” he noted quietly.

“Doesn’t seem like it,” she said with an apologetic grimace, “I’ll have to talk to her later and figure out what’s on her mind.”

“I think I should be the one to do that. I’ll catch her when everyone starts to wind down later.”

Hermione nodded in understanding as they were pulled back into the group conversation by Harry.

After dessert, everyone gathered around the tree as Molly poured eggnog before conducting a slew of Christmas carols, Arthur jovially singing along beside her. Draco sat back, watching with a grin as everyone else begrudgingly joined in at varying octaves. 

Hermione eventually nudged him enough times over the next few songs that he gave in and quietly started whispering the lyrics to _'Waiting on a Christmas Owl’._ And though he felt silly, his participation made Molly beam over at him. 

Another glass of eggnog later, Molly’s cheeks were pink and she decided they had adequately run through her favorite carols and could move on to the next activity on their Weasley Family Christmas Eve itinerary, to which everyone was relieved. 

Arthur then redirected the children in front of the big recliner as he read them their traditional Christmas story _Charmed on Christmas Day._ The story began with a young wizard throwing a temper tantrum about wanting all the toys on his list, storming upstairs and making a wish at precisely midnight on Christmas Eve that he’d trade _anything_ to get those toys. He’d woken up the next morning to a whole house full of presents of different magical whims; every toy he’d ever dreamed of, but after opening them, he’d realized he was alone in the house and he’d grown worried. His parents were nowhere to be found and his sister was not in her bed. The house elves had abandoned the kitchen, and even their cat had disappeared. He was just alone with his presents and an empty heart. 

In that moment he’d realized that what he _really_ wished for was the company of the ones he loved and would have traded every one of his new presents for their normal family breakfast, passing out stockings and laughing around the table. Which he eventually got of course, once the Christmas Warlock showed up to tell him the meaning of Christmas and agree to take back the presents in exchange for a redo of the day surrounded by his family with the thoughtful, hard-earned gifts they’d been able to get him. 

It ended happily ever after with a big family group hug and as he closed the book, all the kids clapped happily. With a bedtime story read, they were brought upstairs to be put to bed by their respective parents as Arthur and Molly returned to the kitchen to start the cleanup. The adults reconvened in the living room with new mugs of hot chocolate, most with a bit of firewhiskey in them, to continue the evening festivities.

Ron had sat down next to Draco as Hannah took Finn upstairs and had struck up conversation about the Canon’s 1995 season, a favorite of his from his younger years. Draco was sure he was just trying to be cordial, but it was appreciated as he remembered back to his ‘easier’ days of following quidditch stats.

Hannah joined Ginny by the fireplace when she returned from putting Finn to bed, calling Susan over to chat.

“Susan, do you know Ginny? I meant to do introductions earlier.”

“I don’t think we’ve formally met,” Susan said, holding out her hand warmly to Ginny, who shook it.

“Nice to meet you,” Ginny smiled at the girl, “Glad you could join for the holidays. Hannah mentioned you had to cancel a trip to Egypt.”

“Yes,” Susan sighed, “Heightened vampire activity in the area.”

“That’s a shame, our family really enjoyed our trip there years ago.”

“Ron mentioned that, actually, when we were all out to lunch recently.”

“And how do you know everyone? Through Hannah?”

“Well Hannah and I have been friends since school, of course, but I actually work for Draco now.”

“Oh that’s right,” Ginny said with a forced smile, she vaguely remembered tuning out Pansy’s explanation of everyone’s involvement with Draco’s business over dinner.

“You don’t like him much, do you?” Susan asked a bit directly, but conversationally.

“No, honestly I still don’t quite understand why he’s in our house at our Christmas celebration.”

“Can I ask why? Just the obvious reasons of his past?”

“Gosh I don’t think you’ve got the time for specifics,” Ginny said with a small laugh, respecting the straight-talk, “To summarize, his family has basically terrorized ours since I can remember. Draco included.”

Susan nodded slowly as Hannah looked back and forth between them, wanting to find something to soften the conversation with, “You know I have heard he’s really grown up. But you’re entitled to your feelings, of course. I told Ron the same when Harry and Hermione started mentioning him at dinner a few months ago.”

“I’d be happy to give you a bit of my perspective on Draco, as well,” Susan offered, “My family was taken out by the Death Eaters over the years so I understand your sentiment towards someone who’s brought pain to your family. But I’ve been working closely with him for years now and maybe my experiences would color the picture of why everyone is giving him another chance. But only if you want to hear it, I’d understand if you don’t.”

“Hannah, come here for a minute!” Ron called, waving her over.

Hannah looked back at Ginny who nodded at her as she got up and went to join Ron and Draco on the couch.

Ginny turned back to Susan, trying to think how to word her response, knowing the offer was coming from a genuine place, “I’m sure you have your reasons for finding the compassion to give him a second chance, but I’m not really in a place where I’m looking to understand yet. I’m still getting used to his name being something I have to hear again for the first time in twelve years. Maybe eventually, but not tonight.”

“Okay, if you ever do want to hear it, I’m happy to share. For now, it’s the holidays, and I’d love to hear more about Egypt from your travels since I didn’t get to see it for myself.”

There was something very fresh and welcoming about Susan that Ginny admired, “Sure. I was only eleven at the time, but I remember the highlights.”

“Is there somewhere we could go for a walk, perhaps?” Susan suggested with a tinge of pink on her cheeks, “I could use some air with all the people around. I’m not used to big family gatherings like this.”

“Oh yes, we’ve got some nice big fields to wander and the fairies are out at night in the winter so it’s well lit, you'll just have to mind the scavenging gnomes,” she stood, Susan following her past the others and through to the kitchen for the door.

Draco watched as they went, accepting that he’d have to wait until a bit later to pull Ginny aside. Hermione caught his eye from across the room where she was talking with Angelina with a small smile and his lip quirked up in response. The softness in her features was quite striking compared to the tension he felt and the noise around him almost dimmed as they locked eyes. Though he quickly remembered that he was part of his own conversation and focused back on the story Hannah was telling about a match she’d attended with her father during that 1995 season where she’d met Ron’s all-time favorite player after the match. 

Ginny and Susan had rejoined the group eventually, settling in with Angelina and Hermione as Harry and Pansy joined Draco and Ron on the couch to talk about the set up for their pickup Quidditch match on New Years Day. Hannah was the first to retreat to bed, exhausted from chasing Finn around in his sugar-aided frenzy that afternoon.

Others followed soon after until it had dwindled down to Hermione, Susan and Ginny talking by the fireplace as Draco finally gave in to listening to Harry and Pansy’s exploration of Montmartre.

Molly and Arthur, finishing up from their cleaning of the kitchen, brought down some sleeping bags and pillows for them, as well as a small bag of presents that they unloaded to the open spaces under the tree before they bid them goodnight as well.

Ginny seemed to realize she was the last one left downstairs that wasn’t sleeping there and yawned, stretching exaggeratedly, “Guess I’d better get off to bed as well so you lot can get your sleeping spots set up.”

“Yes, probably a good idea for us all to get some sleep. I’m sure the chaos will be even moreso tomorrow with presents and such,” Hermione nodded, looking around at the space available.

“I’m glad we had a nice chance to get acquainted tonight,” Susan said with a sweet smile as Ginny pushed herself off the ledge of the fireplace.

“Maybe we can grab coffee, or dinner, sometime after this and… continue getting to know each other.”

Hermione caught a wink that she assumed was supposed to be inconspicuous as Susan's smile widened.

“Yes, dinner does sound nice.”

As Ginny went to head upstairs and Hermione and Susan started unrolling sleeping bags, Draco excused himself from Harry and Pansy.

“Ginny,” he caught her as she reached the bottom of the steps and he watched as she hesitated with a sigh before turning.

“Yes?”

“Could we talk?” He asked, “Privately.”

“Listen, my interest in being alone with a Malfoy under any pretense is almost nonexistent. I’ve tried to give you your space tonight, can’t that be enough?”

“Normally yes, but I’d like to at least have the opportunity to talk — apologize — if you’ll listen.”

She considered him, looking annoyed, “Fine.”

He nodded a bit stiffly, “Great,” before turning on his heel and heading for the kitchen as she followed him, both settling into the chairs at the end of the table.

“I understand you don’t like me,” he started.

“Correct.”

“And I don’t blame you. Not one bit, actually. I was an awful person at Hogwarts and my father was terrible. What he did to you was inexcusable and unforgivable. And I’m sorry for everything you endured because of my family.”

“So do you have this talk scripted for every person you ever knew from Hogwarts?” She asked with a cool indifference.

“No. Wrote this one special for you,” he said dryly, realizing she was as feisty as Hermione and Harry had described her in past conversations.

To his surprise, she gave a kind of snort, “Fine, go on then.”

He took it as a small win and continued, “The way I treated you and your family was also inexcusable. I was brought up believing things that I don’t believe anymore.”

“Such as?”

“Such as money equating to respect; Blood purity equating to worth, Power equating to happiness.”

She nodded, “Good start.”

“I don’t deserve your forgiveness, in the same way I never deserved Potter’s or Hermione’s. Or your brother’s,” he added as an afterthought, “Who somehow seems to be coming around, although I’m not sure I expected him to. But I want it to be clear that I know the mistakes I made. I know the pain I caused. I know the side I was on in the war and I hold the responsibility and regret for those decisions. I’m trying to do my part to make some change for the better in the world now. It doesn’t take anything away, but it’s what I can do. I’ll never understand what you went through, but I am sorry to have been part of the family that contributed to it all.”

“Okay, anything else?”

“No, that’s about it I think,” he said simply, she’d take it how she wanted to, “You’re free to yell at me if you’d like.”

“No need to yell with all the kids sleeping upstairs. I’d just like you to know that I truly don’t know if I would even consider forgiving your family, and by extension, you yourself. It’s clear you’ve made some life changes, but it doesn’t take away the rest of it. It doesn’t take the Dark Mark off your arm. It doesn’t take away the time you poisoned Ron. It doesn’t take away the time you almost killed my ex-girlfriend Katie, and it doesn’t take away the things that I know happened in your home to my friends and my brother. I appreciate your apology, it’s just not as simple as that.”

“I understand,” he said, his insides twisting at the memories she’d brought up as he fought to keep his expression unchanged, “Thank you for listening.”

She nodded, standing and walking out of the kitchen for the stairs without a backwards glance as Draco slouched in the chair a bit. His eyes closed and head falling back as he took an extra minute for a breath before he’d be ready to rejoin the others.

“Draco?” Hermione’s head popped in the door to the kitchen before she spotted him in the corner and walked in, “How’d it go? Ginny just went up to bed.”

He sighed, lifting his head to address her, “I apologized and that’s all I can do. She didn’t really want to hear it.”

“She’s tough,” Hermione said, sitting down next to him and covering his hand that was resting on the table with hers, “She grew up with six brothers so she’s got a tough exterior. But she’ll process the apology and maybe she’ll listen to one or two of us and over time I think she’ll warm up to the idea.”

“She has no reason to. She has every right to hate me and my family. Just like everyone should, really. Maybe she’s the only one that’s got it right.”

“Stop it,” Hermione gave him a serious look, “Don’t stop believing in the progress you’ve made because one person doesn’t see it. Just keep pushing forward. I believe in you; in who you are.”

He gave her a crooked smile, “I don’t deserve you,” he said, his free hand coming up to slip behind her hair to the back of her neck.

“Well you get me anyway,” she said quietly, leaning in and placing a soft kiss on his lips, “And I’m quite happy about it.”

She pulled back a few inches so their eyes could meet and she felt him searching hers for answers; for reassurance; for honesty.

“I’m happy about it too,” he finally said, finding everything he needed in her gaze and trying to relax a bit again. He leaned in for one more kiss before he stood, “Probably should get in there to help set up before they start to think we’re snogging in here or something.”

They returned to the living room, distributing the pillows as they assigned sleeping places. They insisted Susan take the couch as Pansy took the recliner, Harry curling into a sleeping bag next to it, Pansy’s hand dangling over the side of the chair to interlace their fingers. Crookshanks stretched before curling into a ball by the fireplace again as Hermione and Draco rolled out sleeping bags next to each other in the middle of the room, with an appropriate amount of space between them, before crawling in. Light bedtime chatter carried on for a while longer before they slowly started drifting off to sleep on Christmas Eve at the Weasleys'. In the darkness, Draco had reached over, grabbing Hermione’s hand that was resting between the sleeping bags and squeezing it lightly as she squeezed back. His thumb brushed over her fingers, the feeling of her skin beneath his helping to relax him even further until he finally started lulling off to sleep, knowing tomorrow would be just as full as today.

O-o-o-o-o-o-o

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading & for the reviews & kudos, it's such a bright spot in my days to see the notifications! If you've got a minute, I'd love to hear your thoughts on the story so far :)


	21. Christmas At The Burrow

The sound of tiny footsteps barreling down the stairs woke those in the living room, Crookshanks lifting his head and glaring at the offending sound from his spot by the fireplace. Draco blinked his eyes open at the noise to see his and Hermione’s hands curiously close to each other between the sleeping bags. He pulled back inconspicuously to stretch, hoping not to bring attention to it.

“IT’S CHRISTMAS!” Came Finn’s excited voice as he hit the landing and ran into the kitchen, a very tired Ron and tired, but marginally more awake, Hannah, clambering down the stairs after him.

“Happy Christmas,” Ron mumbled, pushing the door to the kitchen open as they waved.

Draco turned his head back towards Hermione, who met his gaze, “Happy Christmas,” she said with a twinkle in her eye.

“Happy Christmas,” he couldn’t help but grin back at her. Even though he’d slept terribly, in a sleeping bag on the floor, something about being woken up to Christmas wishes from the woman across from him made it much more bearable. 

He’d never had a pleasant Christmas as an adult, it was usually just another day that he tried to block out the crushing pain of acknowledging the rift with his family; or the memories of selfishness the holiday held from his childhood, thinking the most important thing in the world was receiving the newest broom model or limited release toy. But the feeling he woke up with today was different. There was an overwhelming sense of calm just from hearing her voice, though it was quickly drowned out by more yells from upstairs of young kids realizing Christmas Day was upon them and another morning greeting broke him from his internal thoughts.

“Happy Christmas,” Pansy said, throwing her pillow down onto his head.

“Hey!” he called back indignantly, pulling the pillow from his face and moving his eyes from Hermione to her.

She was laughing as Harry’s wide smile came into view from behind her recliner, “Time to get up! Mrs. Weasley’s getting breakfast started.”

As they entered the kitchen soon after, they were inundated with smells of sizzling bacon and baking cinnamon rolls. Draco felt quite unusual donning pajamas around others, but Hermione had insisted he keep them on to fit with Weasley tradition and as he looked around he noticed she’d been right. They took the same seats as the night prior, though the table looked a bit longer and a couple more chairs had been squeezed in.

“Finn’s been up since five,” Ron said groggily, pouring himself coffee from the carafe he’d already grabbed from the counter as a few more jugs of juice floated down the table, placing themselves intermittently.

Draco couldn’t help a small chuckle, “How’d you keep him upstairs?”

“Told him if we went downstairs before seven the Christmas Warlock would take all the presents away,” he yawned.

“Clever.”

Harry squeezed Ron's shoulders from behind before he took the seat beside him with a broad smile, Pansy sliding in on Harry's other side, “Happy Christmas, Ron.”

“Happy Christmas, Harry,” Ron gave him a few tired claps on the back, leaning forward to look around him, “Happy Christmas, Pansy.”

“You too, Weasley,” she said, looking amused at his disheveled state.

Hannah sat down across from Ron with Finn on her lap, bags under her eyes, but a brightness behind them, “I think we’re calm enough to sit down for breakfast now, huh Finn?”

“Yep, Grandma Wealsey said there were cinnamon rolls and if I sat here quietly, I’d be the first to get one. I’m going to put SO MUCH frosting on it.”

“You have to leave enough for everyone else though,” Hannah said sweetly, “Because we know how important it is to share, especially on Christmas where the theme is _giving_.”

“I _know_ mum,” Finn whined, “I’m going to share. I just really love cinnamon and frosting,” Finn turned, noticing Draco looking at him with a crooked smile from next to Hannah, “Mummy, who’s he? I’ve never seen him before. His hair is white.”

Hannah looked apologetically at Draco before addressing her son, “Finn, this is Draco. He’s a friend of mummy and daddy,” Draco lifted his gaze for Ron’s reaction to his wife’s statement, but Ron was just watching Finn with a grin and blowing on his coffee, “And his hair isn’t white, it’s blond.”

“No, I think it’s white,” Finn said thoughtfully. A snort came from across the table and Draco deadpanned as Ron looked at him, causing him another snort as Ron inhaled his coffee and nearly choked on it. Finn didn't notice, “But it looks really silky. Hi Draco.”

With a win as Ron sputtered over his mug for a moment, Draco turned his attention back to the boy in amusement, “It’s nice to meet you, Finn."

“Why is your watch so gold?” Finn asked, eying the gaudy timepiece on his wrist, “Do you have a niffler? Is that why? I told mummy I’d really like a niffler but she says they cause a lot of work and I’m enough of a handful.”

“Finn,” Hannah laughed, "You don’t have to repeat everything mummy says.”

“I do not have a niffler,” Draco said matter-of-factly, enjoying the simplicity of conversation with a small child, “I just really like fancy watches.”

“Why’s it got so many hands?” Finn asked, grabbing Draco’s wrist to get a better look.

“Gosh, I’m sorry,” Hannah said exasperatedly, “Finn, we don’t touch other people.”

“It’s fine,” Draco assured her, turning the watch face to Finn, “The hands do different things, you see. Some are reminders, like this one,” he pointed to one of the squiggly hands, “This is a reminder to pick up some supplies I ordered for the house tomorrow at three.”

Hermione looked on with an endearing smile as Draco interacted with Finn, impressed and maybe a bit surprised at how patient he was being, as he generally was one of the most impatient people she’d ever met — at least when it came to business. He was straight to the point, no nonsense. Though on second thought, he was quite patient with her in the lab, also; teaching her about ingredients, helping her learn new techniques. Her smile deepened as Finn moved a little closer again.

“What’s that one?” he pointed to a thick silver hand.

“That one is a countdown to my next vacation,” Draco said, showing him the numbers in the corner of the watch face the hands were pointing to, “three weeks and six days.”

“What about this one?”

“That one actually tells me the temperature outside so I know what to wear.”

“And that one?”

“That one,” Draco said seriously, leaning in a little closer as Finn’s eyes got wide in anticipation, “That one tells the time.”

“That’s what a watch is _supposed_ to do,” Finn sighed.

“Looks like it’s working then.”

“Happy Christmas, Weasleys!” came Neville’s voice from the doorway as everyone sent well wishes cheerfully back. Neville and Luna stopped at Ginny who was close to the door, chatting with her for a few minutes before they headed for the end of the table. Most pulled each of them in for a hug as they passed until they were seated on the other side of Ron.

“Happy Christmas to you both!” Hermione said with a smile, excited to see them for the first time in months, but wanting to make sure she didn’t forget the reintroduction, “Neville, Luna, I’m sure you remember Draco and Pansy, they’re joining us this year for the holiday.”

“Course,” Neville nodded with a crooked smile, “How are you lot doing?”

“Good, Longbottom, nice to see you,” Draco said a little awkwardly, acknowledging yet another person he used to torment.

“Flourishing,” Pansy responded coyly, slipping her arm through Harry’s.

“Right, I heard you’d found yourself a girlfriend,” Neville said to Harry, “Didn’t hear it was Pansy Parkinson, however!”

“It’s Pansy Parkinson,” Harry gave him a boyish grin.

“You both look quite happy,” Luna noted, looking between the two, “I sense real chemistry with all the diligordian energy flowing between you.”

“Diligordian...” Pansy tilted her head curiously, shifting her eyes to Harry.

His grin turned towards her and he shrugged inconspicuously.

“Diligords are air creatures. They tend to create magnetic tensions in energy when they find compatible chemistry. You may start shooting sparks soon with all the diligords in your air space.”

“I’m sorry, I’ve never heard of diligords.”

Harry caught her eye again with a gleam in his and a slight shake of his head.

“We had a great article in the Quibbler about them over the summer. They love warm weather. Onion peels keep them away, however. You can just rub a little onion on your wrist and they’ll leave you right alone.”

Pansy nodded slowly, catching the grins of the others surrounding them and realizing she likely wasn’t supposed to understand.

“Malfoy, I heard you’ve got quite an interesting company you’re running,” Neville transitioned the conversation, stretching his arm around Luna’s chair.

Draco nodded, cupping his coffee mug in his hands, “I like to think so; developmental potions brewing. We’ve got some office space in downtown London where we work on our products. And it’s just Draco now,” he added casually, “I heard you’re exploring the larger world of herbology."

“Thinking about it, yes. Hermione mentioned your team was full, but I’d still interested to hear more about how it all works in the industry if you’d be open to lunch one day for some career advice.”

“Of course,” Draco said as genuinely as he could, though it wasn’t a tone of voice that came naturally, Send me an owl and we can set something up. Herbology is a big part of the potions industry. I’ll see if I can get my friend Adrien to sit down with you as well, he’s our VP of Herbology at Draconis Laboratories.”

“That’d be great; appreciate it.”

“How are things in the Hogwarts greenhouses, Neville?” Ron asked.

“Same as always,” Neville sighed, “But going well.”

A few minutes later, Arthur’s voice caught everyone’s attention as the door opened again, “Happy Christmas, Andromeda!” 

Draco’s head swiveled. He’d forgotten they were coming until now and he felt his body tense.

“Teddy!” Victoire jumped out of her seat and ran over, flinging her arms around a boy with shaggy, violently purple hair who looked a couple of years older. He wrapped his arms right back around her and picked her up, spinning her around like there was no one he’d rather see.

“Come in, come in!” Molly beamed at them as she pushed the eggs around her large skillet on the stove.

Everyone began the greeting process again as Andromeda made her rounds, Teddy and Victoire still talking excitedly in the doorway, and Molly grabbing a few volunteers to help levitate plates and silverware over to the table as she finished up.

Andromeda stopped in her tracks as she looked up from her well wishes to Hermione to see a flash of platinum blond hair enter her view. She wondered, for a moment, how she’d missed it in the crowd until now, but she swore her heart stopped for a fraction of a second, “Draco?”

He gave her a forced smile as he stood to greet her, hoping that enough people were milling about that they could keep their conversation private as he was still completely unsure how she was going to react to him being there, “Aunt Andromeda, it’s been a while.”

“Are you… what are you doing here?” Her voice was faint with shock.

“The Weasleys were kind enough to invite me, as I’ve nowhere else to be for the holiday.”

“And as our friend,” Harry interjected as Draco gave him an appreciative nod. The voices were starting to quiet slightly as a few people realized the connection.

Andromeda looked from Harry back to Draco, still completely lost, “I don’t quite understand, couldn’t you spend it at… the manor?”

“No,” he said definitively, “I haven’t spent the holidays there since my father’s release.”

“But Narcissa must want you there.”

Draco felt the eyes of the table on them even as everyone tried to pretend they weren’t listening in, though it was clear they’d gained the attention of the room as he tried to keep his voice down, “She does, of course,” he said uncomfortably, “But I’ve explained that as long as he’s there, I won’t be. It’s as simple as that.”

Andromeda’s eyes filled almost instantly with tears as she pulled him into a tight hug, her voice coming out in a raspy whisper, “Oh Draco, I’m so happy to see you here.”

He hesitated a moment before he brought his arms around to hug her back, a feeling of relief settling in. He felt something else too, however, something unexpected as his eyes stung. He blinked them a few times to combat the feeling, not wanting the emotion to push past, but the realization that he wasn’t spending the holiday without family had just hit him. Andromeda had accepted him back, just like that. With one proclamation that he was different than his father and trying to distance himself. With one proclamation that he was a friend of Harry and a guest of the Weasleys. He could feel, in her embrace, that she’d been waiting years for one of her family members to move past their blood purity obsessions as she had. And finally, she had Draco.

“I’m happy to see you, too,” he got out, once he’d adequately suppressed the stinging sensation.

Draco noticed the noise in the room had slowly started picking back up when Andromeda had hugged him, many of them likely acknowledging it was a private moment and trying to divert attention.

Andromeda pulled back, hands resting on his shoulders, and searched his face as though he was someone she recognized from long ago that she could finally see clearly again, “You’ll have to come around for dinner sometime.”

“I’d like that.”

Hermione was smiling to herself as she listened to the conversation happening behind her, trying not to tear up herself at what a monumental moment it must be for each of them to find solace in family again.

“Breakfast is served!” Called Molly happily over the commotion as platters of eggs and sausage links and bacon and toast started floating over and placing themselves evenly throughout the table.

“Well, better get to my seat before I miss out,” Andromeda said with another smile before she wiped the stray tear that had pushed past from her cheeks, squeezing his shoulder once more before she moved on to finish her greetings.

As Draco sat again, he noticed the table was full, which must have happened in the last few minutes. He noted Susan had moved to the other side of the table this morning, sitting between Ginny and Angelina. Ginny must have felt his eyes on her because hers flickered momentarily over to his and lingered there for just a second as if considering him again but coming to no conclusion before returning to Susan as she talked.

After breakfast, the Weasley kids took turns helping Molly with dishes and cleanup as Arthur ushered everyone else back into the living room, after refreshing their coffees, to pick seats for the main event of the day. When they were all gathered, Mrs. Weasley began their tradition of handing out one present from under the tree to each of the kids, who had to wait until all of their hands were full until they could open them. This practice was continued as the presents were doled out, the second round including adults as well. 

Draco watched the process with interest as he chatted with Harry and Hermione, who were closest to him. He didn’t expect any gifts so it was quite relaxing to feel like he could sit back and blend in for a bit as everyone around him excitedly opened gifts, shouting words of thanks or, in the children’s cases, running around with new toys. He’d normally exchange presents with Pansy, so he’d brought a little something for her and Harry, to which they’d returned the favor, making sure to bring his gift after hearing he’d be joining. 

“I got you a little something as well,” Hermione said as she returned from the tree with a box and a sweet smile, Pansy and Harry peeking over at them, “You know, for the time you’ve spent teaching me all about potions brewing.”

“Thank you,” he set his new platinum dragon cufflinks from Harry and Pansy aside and took the box from her, “There’s one under there from me to you as well, for your help in the lab, of course. I’ll go look for it.”

“I can find it, I’m already up,” she turned with intrigue, rummaging through the few boxes that were left and grabbing a smaller one addressed to herself before she returned.

“Well go on then,” he said as she laughed, sitting down next to him and ripping the paper off.

She opened the box to see a gold — solid gold if she wasn’t mistaken — tree ornament of the Eiffel Tower, “This is beautiful, Draco, it’ll go quite nicely with my decorations.”

“I ordered it special to ship in the owl post from Paris last weekend,” he said with a certain twinkle in his eye, “I know you like to have ornaments from places you’ve been, and you mentioned you’ll be visiting Paris soon,” he winked almost unnoticeably and she cocked her head to the side questioningly before his lips split into a grin and her eyes widened, realizing what he was implying, “I thought I’d save you the trouble of scouring for ornaments after the holiday season.”

She tried to keep her excitement in check at the thought of a trip to Paris together, “You know this structure is from the muggle side of Paris,” she quipped.

“Yes, I do know, I thought that’s where you said you were going? Staying right on Champs-Elysees? And you know, as a matter of fact someone recommended I go there, myself recently. Sounds like a really interesting place so you’ll have to tell me all about your trip.”

She wished she could have flung her arms around his neck, but opted instead for a beaming smile, “I think you’ll love it when you go. And my tree will love this ornament.”

“I’m glad, Happy Christmas.”

“Alright, now open yours!” she goaded him as she noticed Harry and Pansy’s side-eye glances at their exchange.

Draco unwrapped the box, which was large enough that he didn’t have a clue what could be inside. He opened it to see a shiny, fancy looking chef’s knife glinting back at him as the light steaming in the window hit it, “Whoa,” he said with a low whistle, picking it up to inspect it more thoroughly, “This looks like a very expensive knife,” he said quietly as she smiled proudly across from him. 

“That is a very expensive knife. I think you mentioned you like to cook but haven’t invested in a quality set. I look forward to it being put to good use.”

He turned it in his hand, looking quite impressed, “Japanese hand crafting?”

“Mmhmm,” she nodded as his fingers slid gently over the ridges.

“It’s quite beautiful,” he said, placing it back in the box carefully, “I’ll certainly find a good use for it. That was very generous of you.”

“As was Paris,” she said pointedly, “I mean the Paris ornament,” she corrected as Pansy’s eyebrows raised next to them, even though she was looking the other direction pretending not to listen.

“Whoops almost missed a couple back here!” came Mrs. Weasley’s voice over all the kids’ yells of excitement as she pulled the last two boxes from behind the tree, “Draco, this one’s for you, I was wondering where it had gotten off to.”

Draco looked up, thinking he must have been mistaken, “For me?”

“Yes, of course,” Mrs. Weasley waved him off, handing him a package as he looked at the label addressed to him from Mrs. & Mr. Weasley.

“And it looks like this one is to…” Mrs. Weasley looked at the other label, “Well how fitting, it’s to Arthur and I from Draco. Very thoughtful of you, you certainly didn’t have to get us anything! The champagne was more than enough.”

“Least I could do,” Draco said as Molly returned to sit next to Arthur, many of the adults looking on now.

Draco opened the gift in his hands, finding a knit green scarf with a large D embroidered in grey on it. It was soft to the touch and looked perfectly sewn, “This is lovely,” he said sincerely, just now noticing all of the knitted sweaters around the room in a similar pattern with their respective first initials on them. Hermione was donning hers in a deep blue with a gold H.

“I’m glad you like it, dear,” Molly said as she started in on the tape of their gift, “Would have knit you a full sweater if I’d had time, but Ronald just mentioned last week that he’d like to invite you and a week isn’t quite long enough. Susan’s got a scarf in the works as well,” Molly nodded over to her with a warm smile, “But I just started it on Friday when we got word she’d be joining. It’s family tradition, as you can see.”

“Thank you, really, this is,” he tried to think of the right words but they were escaping him in the moment as the thoughtfulness of being included in their family tradition — whether he’d shown up today or not, it seemed — hit him, “This is wonderful.” He draped the scarf around the back of his neck, his hands still gripping the ends of it, fingers tracing the embroidery absently in appreciation of the gesture.

Mrs. Weasley had finally made her way through the wrapping of their gift as she moved her smiling gaze down to it, pulling a framed picture forward, “Oh my word, is this authentic?” she asked in shock as Arthur leaned over her shoulder to see.

“Yes,” he nodded, “Signed photograph from Celestina herself. She’s a family friend and Hermione had mentioned you were a big fan. I’ve actually arranged a table for you and Arthur next weekend on New Years eve at Merlin’s Table in Diagon Alley, the meal is complimentary, of course. They do a four course dinner and the table you’ve got is in a private room where Celestina will perform just for the two of you at the end of your meal.”

Molly squealed, “Celestina? In person?!”

“Yes, not many people know she does these private shows, but she always saves a table when we ask and she was happy to save one for me to gift to you. She’s looking forward to meeting you.”

Molly was in tears as Arthur looked at him with his mouth agape, most others around the room with similar looks as they knew how much it meant to Molly to not only see, but meet, Celestina Warbeck, “Draco, this is too much, we couldn’t possibly.”

“Well a family Christmas experience was pretty priceless in my book, so it really isn’t too much. I hope you enjoy it.”

Molly set the frame down, walking over to bend down next to Draco, engulfing him in a tight hug, “Thank you so much, I can’t put into words how excited I am.”

He patted her back similarly to the evening before, as he caught Arthur’s eye from the couch where he was smiling gratefully at him, “Thank you for inviting me to spend the holiday with your family,” he said to both of them as Molly pulled back with an endearing look.

Hermione had tears in her eyes as well, beside herself with how thoughtful his gift was. She’d just made an offhand comment at the holiday party to Draco about Mrs. Weasley’s obsession with Celestina and he’d remembered and then gone above and beyond to create this experience for them. The sentiment was not lost on the room.

Molly had returned to her seat, trying to pull herself back together as she looked at the picture in the frame again before setting it back in its wrapping, covering it carefully as she added it to the pile of gifts at her side. Everyone began gathering their things to take to their respective rooms as the kids helped pick up all the wrapping paper by hand, some of the adults levitating the pieces left behind to a trash bag. Draco noticed Ginny looking at him thoughtfully from her seat at the fireplace, which was a look he’d accept compared to her overall complete disinterest in him.

They’d spent a few more hours with the Weasley’s, Andromeda coming over to sit and talk for a bit at one point, sharing tidbits about Teddy and asking more about Draco’s company, before families started getting their things together to pack it up and head home. 

“So next Sunday we’ll meet at the pitch in South London and we should have enough for almost two teams, we’re just one or two short so we’ll just play one beater on each team,” Ron was saying as he, Harry and Draco stood in the kitchen, getting ready to leave.

“I could ask Theo and Blaise if they’d want to join,” Draco offered, “They’re both passable quidditch players. Theo more than Blaise.”

Ron thought for a moment, likely weighing adding in two more Slytherins with the potential for a full game, before he nodded, “Yeah, alright, may as well ask. Full teams would be nice.”

“Are you ready, Harry?” Pansy asked as she walked back into the kitchen; a sharp leather duffle bag slung over her shoulder and Hermione and Hannah walking in behind her.

“Yes I am,” he smiled as he noticed the new earrings hanging proudly from her ears.

“I think I’ll be heading out as well,” Hermione said, glancing over at Draco.

“Yes, me too,” Draco caught her eye before he looked back to the group at large, “I’ll be apparating back to my house to get unpacked before I head into the lab.”

“And I’ve got to do my grocery shopping for the week,” Hermione said casually as an excuse not to apparate back with Harry and Pansy.

“Well it was great to spend the holidays with everyone here,” Harry said, slipping his arm around Pansy’s back, “I know Molly’s trying to get George’s kids rounded up so tell her again how wonderful everything was for us, Ron.”

“I will if she ever sits down for two minutes for me to relay the message,” he promised, “Happy Christmas, see you next weekend.”

They filed out the door, Harry and Pansy apparating away first as Ron and Hannah waved at the door.

“Hey Malfoy,” came Ginny’s voice as she ducked under Ron’s arm and out the door after them.

Draco, as well as Hermione, turned at the voice.

“Yes?”

“Quick word before you go.”

Draco looked back at Hermione who was a step ahead of him, giving her an awkward look like he’d like to say something but couldn’t before he went with, “I guess I’ll be on my way back home in a few minutes. See you, Hermione.”

She nodded in understanding, “See you,” she responded, waving back to everyone again before she disapparated.

Draco walked back towards the burrow where Ginny was walking towards him.

“Bye, Draco,” Ron and Hannah waved as they stepped back inside to give them some privacy.

Ginny stopped in front of him, arms crossed over her chest as Draco waited for her to say whatever it was she came to say.

“That was a nice thing you did, for my parents,” she finally said.

“I tried to think of something that they would enjoy.”

“How did you know she loved Celestina?”

“Granger mentioned it when Celestina performed at our company holiday party. Thought it’d be a nice surprise.”

Ginny nodded, “Well I don’t want you to think you’re out of the woods or anything, but I appreciate the gesture. Clearly you’ve learned something in the last twelve years. I don’t know that I want any kind of friendship with you, but I respect how you handled the holidays here with everyone. And I will try to be more open to having you around if you’re planning to stick around this group and we’ll just see how it goes.”

“I’ll take it,” he gave her a crooked smile, “Maybe with some time you’ll hate me a little less.”

“And maybe with some time you’ll hate yourself a little less.”

“I doubt that.”

She gave a huff of a laugh and nodded, “Well that’s all I had, so I’m going to head back inside,” she paused, “Happy Christmas.”

“Happy Christmas,” he echoed as she turned back to the house and he watched for a second before he turned on the spot and disapparated to the bottom of his stairs, where Hermione was sitting on the step.

She jumped up at the *POP* that had filled the afternoon, flinging her arms around his neck as soon as he was in reach as he stumbled back a step with a chuckle, “Are we really going to Paris?”

“We really are,” he said in her ear as his arms circled around her, pulling her tight as he realized how much he’d been looking forward to holding her again.

“ _Muggle_ Paris?” She confirmed as she pulled back, eyes shining.

He nodded, “You wouldn't believe the research I had to do to figure out how to make a reservation at a muggle hotel. But I found the nicest one I could so don’t you worry.”

“You’re going to love it,” she said sincerely, “I can’t wait to experience it with you.”

He couldn’t help but grin down at her, “It’ll be nice to get away together where we can be ourselves in the open without having to worry.”

“I know,” she said, stepping back, mentally noting that even here they should be careful as she didn’t know who Draco lived by, “Four weeks I believe I heard you say? When you were telling Finn about your next vacation?”

“You’re very perceptive,” he said wryly as they started walking up the steps to his door.

“That’s why you like me. How did the conversation with Ginny go, by the way?”

His brows furrowed with a thoughtful look for a moment, “Better,” he nodded at the word choice, “And I’m glad you got my subtle hint to meet me here.”

“Honestly it wasn’t very subtle,” she laughed as they stepped inside the doorway, relaxing into the ability to be together again without restrictions.

O-o-o-o-o-o-o

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your reviews and kudos on the last chapter! Hope you enjoyed the end of the holidays at the Weasley's!


	22. The Other Kind of Potions

Draco and Hermione spent New Year’s Eve cuddled together on Draco’s sleek black leather couch, listening to the radio count down the seconds til midnight, champagne bottle empty on the floor beside them. They’d cheers’d to an unexpected end to 2010 which had brought them together, and made resolutions for the upcoming year. The mood had been light and optimistic, especially as the Brain Elixir potion had continued to develop by the day; Draco almost positive this batch was a winner which had lessened his stress over progress, at least for the moment. It had been one of those nights they knew they’d look back on as the beginning of something special as they talked about their plans for Paris and laughed easily over their reignited stubborn disagreements on the better side of the city. The talking had subsided into long, contented kisses and sighs that had eventually led them to the bedroom, where they’d rang in the New Year more fully.

On New Year's Day, Draco had taken off for his Quidditch game with Harry and Ron, Blaise and Theo agreeing to join as well. Hermione knew he’d be meeting his mother for dinner later that evening, though she hadn’t been able to extract many details on what that would entail.

Hermione had returned home to gather the last few presents from under her tree and set off for her parents’ where she’d spent a nice day catching up over hot toddy’s in the sitting room. They’d picked up on her repeated return to talking about the potions lab in their conversations and had asked if there was something going on between her and “the scientist” she kept referring to. She’d gone a bit pink but had waved it off, not wanting her parents to worry that she was getting her personal and professional lives mixed together. They wouldn’t like that news at all knowing how hard she’d worked to get where she was. 

She looked forward to a time after the funding period, however, when she thought perhaps she’d have a chance to introduce them to Draco. It made her smile a bit to think about it; her father had always been deeply intrigued by scientific research and developmental medicines so she knew he’d probably pick his brain for hours on the intricacies of potions brewing. And her mother was sure to be won over by the inherent charm he had about him; when they were at the Weasley’s she’d honed in on the humbled politeness that dipped into his personality when interacting with Molly and Arthur - something she guessed stemmed from his path to make up for his pompous attitude earlier in life.

Although, she’d thought to herself, if her parents recognized his name, or they started getting into his past… it may be a little more difficult to win either of them over. Her stomach twisted the slightest bit. She’d certainly talked about Draco Malfoy, the foul-rotten-evil-little-cockroach that had plagued her Hogwarts days. And she was sure she’d have mentioned the Malfoys in her explanation of the events of the war. But she knew he’d want her to be honest with them about his background, so she would, eventually. But today wasn’t the day to spread the news in any case.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Over the next few weeks, they started finding a routine that worked for both of their work-centered lives. Hermione and Crookshanks would spend the weekends at Draco’s from Friday evenings after their brew sessions until Sunday afternoon when she’d return Crookshanks to her flat and go into the Ministry to ‘prepare for the week’. They would go to dinner on Tuesdays — a generally lighter evening for Hermione as she had budget meetings all day on Tuesdays that let out by seven for the committee members. And Thursdays they continued with their group lunches out with Harry and Pansy and whoever else decided to join on any given day. 

The transition from friends to romantic partners had been so smooth that it was almost shocking. But they’d already built a certain level of trust and ease in the office and out by that point that there were no awkward silences of trying to come up with conversation or figure out how to spend entire days together — not after countless hours next to each other in the lab, and especially not when they were both perfectly happy pulling down a book and settling onto the couch, or into bed, depending on the prior activities.

Speaking of activities, the passion between them seemed not to be impacted in the slightest by the final release of pent up tensions from their first time together. Every time his eyes caught hers with that devious grin etched on his features that hinted that he was thinking of something productive he’d like to be doing together, it had the same breathtaking effect on her and her clothes seemed to melt right off her body. And when he smiled — _Merlin, when he smiled._ It was such a rare look to see on him as it was clear he’d spent most of his life schooling his features to look some version of stoic, nonchalant, or unphased, no matter the circumstances. When he smiled it made her heart pound in her chest and she couldn't help smiling back. She was putty to that smile. She’d give him the whole world to see it.

As much as they were certainly enjoying getting to know each other better physically, she couldn’t deny that sometimes it was just the little things that made her so confident in their decision to explore their connection. He cooked breakfast for her in the mornings; made coffee with fresh beans he had flown in from Brazil each week; traced circles on her hands when he held them in his own; and kept her close even when they were caught up in their own readings. He was attentive and she almost felt guilty for not expecting that from him. But with everything she’d learned so far, she couldn't help but feel that this was _good_ ; that this was something that could really go somewhere; that this was a life she’d enjoy living day in and day out, surrounded by intellect and passion and attention to detail. She’d enjoyed her life on her own, but Draco had swooped in and shown her how, perhaps, it could be better. Was this what some called the 'honeymoon phase'? Yes, yes it was. But it had yet to waver and she hoped it wouldn't have to any time soon.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Finally, the Friday of their Paris trip had arrived. Hermione was helping to clean up materials in the lab with Draco, trying to separate her current duties from her overwhelming excitement for what came after. They’d brewed a new version of the Social Tonic that afternoon — a version that seemed like it might be a winner after a few more tweaks from the last batch — so Draco’s mood was light with an obvious undertone of being ready for this part of the day to end as well.

“So before we leave, which trust me I am more than ready to do,” he said as an aside, “I did want to take a quick look at a few cells from the Brain Elixir progress.”

“Of course. I’ll grab the brains down if you want to unlock the cabinet,” she offered since she was standing at the sink below them.

“Oh, um,” he looked up at the cabinet quickly before turning his gaze back down to the vials in his hand, "Give me a minute and I'll grab them."

She laughed, "Don't be silly I'm right here."

"Right, of course—" another glance at the cabinet, "—they’re on the right hand side.”

He flicked his wand and the cabinets unlocked and she instinctively reached up and opened the one closest to her free hand.

“Whoops wrong one — hey Draco,” she started as his eyes darted back to her.

“The _right_ hand side,” he reiterated, a tinge of frustration in his tone that he tried to bite back.

Hermione had paused, however, on a larger glass jar holding a deep purple potion that was swirling within, “Draco, what’s this potion?”

“It’s nothing,” he said, “The brains are on the other side.”

She turned to him with a frown, “Is this another developmental potion for the line?”

“No,” his expression was unreadable. Seeing her tilted head, he elaborated, “It’s just a bad version of one of the others that I’ve been keeping for testing purposes. It must have gotten placed up there by mistake. Could you grab the brains so we can get this observation over with and get on to the rest of the weekend?”

She felt herself wanting to push the subject based on his odd response… but she also wanted to get to Paris so she decided to let it slide and save the question for another day, “Alright, well I’ll grab it down so we can keep it with the other experimental brews. Don’t want it to get lost up here,” she flicked her wand at it as it levitated to her hands. By the time she’d turned around with it, Draco was already at her side to take it from her.

“Thanks,” he said a little stiffly as he walked back over to the vial cabinets and placed it carefully inside. He shut the doors, latching them as securely as he could before he joined her at the table, where she was waiting with the addled brain jar in hand.

“Let’s start the extraction process,” he said, trying to refocus on the task at hand.

They pulled another cell from the brain, moving it over to a petri dish and comparing it to the normal brain cell as well as the original, and most recent, addled brain cells.

“I can’t believe the progress this keeps making,” Hermione commented, “It’s been almost a month now and it’s basically indistinguishable from the healthy brain cells.”

“I’m thinking another month of observations will tell us whether it’ll equalize when it gets to be the same color as the healthy ones or if it continues to break down the cell after making it through the film of the curse.”

“This is really exciting,” she beamed at him, “Think of the impact this could have on the lives of those who need it.”

He gave her a crooked smile, “I hope I get to see that day.”

They’d packed the observation tools away and finished their cleanup before leaving Draco’s office, a little earlier than usual to make their seven o’clock portkey.

“So do you have your bags all packed for your trip tonight?” Draco asked as they strolled down the hall, noticing a few of his colleagues’ doors were still open.

“Yes I certainly do,” she nodded, “Going to apparate home to grab it and then I’ll meet… ah… I’ll meet the international portkey operator to check in for the travel portion.”

“Draco,” Pansy popped her head out of her office as they walked by.

“Yes?” he paused, Hermione stopping with him.

“Blaise and I are going to take Adrien out tomorrow night,” she said with a twinkle in her eye, “Do you want to join us?”

“I can’t, I’m going out of town this weekend,” he responded smoothly, “Can’t wait to hear how that goes, though. Potter’s not going with you?”

“No, I got him season box seats to Puddlemere for Christmas so he’s going to take Weasley to this one, figured I’d do something fun while he’s out. Where are _you_ going?” she asked, not letting him get away without an explanation.

“My mother is going to meet me in Spain for the day tomorrow, figured I’d make a weekend of it.”

“ _Spain_?” Pansy echoed as if she may have heard him incorrectly, her expression changing slightly to one that almost resembled concern, which seemed like an odd reaction to Hermione.

“Not like that,” Draco said pointedly in a lower voice as Pansy eyed him for an extra second, her look of concern waning with further assessment before she sighed with what was supposed to be a nonchalant shrug.

“Alright, well have fun I guess. Don’t let any of those spanish girls make you forget what day it is again, we’ll need you back in the office Monday.”

“I’ll do my best,” he said dryly with an annoyed look before he started walking again, Pansy watching after him before she retreated back into her office, Hermione raising her eyebrows at him expectantly once they were alone again.

“Was that comment something I should ask about?” Hermione said casually when no explanation was offered up as they walked through the reception area.

“Not particularly,” he enunciated the words before he cleared his throat a little, trying to retain his natural demeanor, “I did mention that Pansy and Blaise used to drag me out when I needed it.”

“To party in Spain?”

He tried to side-step the conversation as they stepped onto the elevator, “We had our wild days, even if I was brooding most of the time while we were there. It’s really not a big deal.”

“There’s a lot I don’t know about those twelve years, isn’t there?”

“Sometimes there are things you don’t want to know,” he said as the elevator dinged at the bottom and they stepped off, Draco pushing open the main doors and ushering her out into the brisk January air.

“Right, well on that note, I’m going to apparate home and I’ll see you near seven,” Hermione couldn’t shake the feeling that he was hiding something significant from her that Pansy clearly knew and it wasn’t a great feeling. Though she wasn’t sure if it was the details of all of the _girls from Spain_ or something more.

“Hermione,” he said with a sigh, as they turned into the alleyway next to the building, “Don’t think on it too much, it’s all in the past anyway.”

“I’ll see you soon,” she gave him a small smile before she turned and disapparated.

Draco watched the spot she’d disappeared from before looking back up at the building with an aggravated scoff, shaking his head at Pansy’s unnecessary revelation and then turning to apparate home.

At quarter-to seven, Draco apparated to an open field a ways outside the city, noticing Hermione’s hair blowing wildly in the wind ahead and hoping she had put their last conversation from her mind as he trekked forward.

“All looks in order,” the portkey operator said as he closed Hermione’s passport and handed it back to her with a gruff smile before he turned to Draco as he approached, “He with you?"

“Yes, reservation’s in his name,” Hermione avoided Draco’s eye as he reached them.

“Draco Malfoy?” The operator asked in a thick Irish accent as his finger ran down the list hovering next to him.

“Yes, sir,” Draco nodded, handing over his passport for inspection as he tried to catch Hermione’s eye, but she was staring quite pointedly at the man as he scanned the passport with his wand, as he had with hers.

“Looks in order,” he said again, handing the leather-bound booklet back to Draco. He turned, rummaging through a box of old, mostly broken, miscellaneous items by his side until he pulled out a decently sized music box boasting a ballet dancer with one arm missing, “Portkey leaves at seven according to your reservation. You can take it from anywhere if you’d like to go for a wander. Got about ten minutes.”

“Thank you,” Draco said, handing the man a galleon for a tip as Hermione took the music box before they set off through the field.

“Hope it wasn’t much trouble for you to get the portkey,” Hermione said once they were a good few strides out of earshot, trying to sound casual again, though she was quite caught up on Pansy’s comment still. Since they’d reacquainted, she’d always pictured him at home and brooding for twelve years, perhaps going out for drinks once in a while, not partying in Spain on the weekends losing track of the days. But to be fair, he had mentioned the _here and there_ s so maybe Pansy’s comment shouldn’t be a surprise. But the look of concern was still confusing all on its own.

“Of course it wasn’t,” he said, not in the mood to stick to the niceties with a meticulously planned out weekend ahead of them that he wanted to be able to enjoy together, “Are you still bothered by what was said earlier?”

“I shouldn't be, like you said, no big deal,” she shrugged, still not looking over at him.

“Hermione,” he grabbed her hand lightly in his and stopped, causing her to turn towards him, “If you’re bothered by it we can just talk about it. I’m sorry I tried to brush it off before but I want you to enjoy this weekend and if this is going to hinder that, let’s have it out. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, it’s just not a time in my life I’m particularly proud of,” he thought for a second, “Not that I’m particularly proud of most of the other parts either.”

“Alright, well it’s a couple things. It certainly caught me by surprise that Pansy would so casually mention that you’d be likely to lose track of the days with some girl you might meet; like it was normal or expected even.”

“Years ago it might have been,” he conceded before she continued.

“And the way she looked at you when you said you were going to Spain seemed like a conversation all its own. I thought maybe you’d explain when we walked away but it seemed like something you wanted to hide from me.”

“I’ll explain the look,” he sighed, “It was deserved, to be honest. In my early twenties, the years leading up to transitioning from the apprenticeship to starting my company… Pansy, Blaise and I were all single, Blaise was living in Spain at the time, and Pansy would drag me down so we could all let loose from real life for a weekend; forget about the war and our jobs and the momentous pressure to turn it all around. When we would go, I would get into some… more widely frowned upon potions. We all did, but I was the worst of us. And it didn’t lead to the most sound behavior.”

“What kind of potions?”

“Well,” he looked torn again but continued, “As beautiful a thing as healing potions can be, there’s another side of potions brewing that is… less pure.”

“Like drugs?” She inferred, unsure why she’d never considered something of that nature might exist in the wizarding world.

“Hm?” He furrowed his brows at her, “Not sure I’ve heard of that, but they’re potions that alter your brain a bit more… freely. Pansy called them party potions,” he let out a dark chuckle, his eyes lost in a far away thought, “Sounds like such an innocent name, doesn’t it? ‘Party potions’.”

“Sounds exactly like drugs,” she said quietly, breaking him from his reverie, “Makes you high? Happy? Hallucinate maybe?”

“Ah, seems like drugs is the appropriate word then,” he met her eye for a moment, trying to find the strength there to go into the difficult part of the story. She may have been upset, but her gaze was just as welcoming as it always was and he took it in for a moment before he looked outward onto the field of tall grass swaying in the wind as something to focus on to get it all out, “We all just wanted something to take the pain away and feel like we were young and free from our mistakes. It wasn’t a long period in our lives, a couple of years maybe, and again, I didn’t go on my own, they dragged me along when they felt I was shutting myself away. I’m not going to say I didn’t enjoy it at the time because quite honestly, I was never sad when Pansy showed up with an overnight bag and a portkey reservation because it meant I could numb it all for a little while. It was an escape, and a very effective one. The last trip we did, I hit a low on the comedown,” his eyes flicked back to hers painfully and she could tell he was wrestling with whether or not to elaborate.

“What kind of low?” she asked a bit hesitantly. She didn’t want to push him but she also felt that for a relationship between them to work, they had to have a different level of trust. They had to acknowledge the uncomfortable because their pasts were ridden with things the other may not understand, and any future together would come with inherent difficult conversation and trying outside influences and they had to be in it one hundred percent for it to have any chance at all. It left no space for any kind of wall or secrets between them.

He drew in a long breath through his nose before he nodded in acceptance that he’d need to continue, “I just remember feeling like the potions were starting to wear off, laying in bed sifting through every terrible memory of the things I’d done as my stomach twisted into knots and my chest tightened in a way I’d never experienced. I felt like I didn’t deserve to be alive when so many better people than me were dead. I kicked out whoever was with me; wrecked my room with a bunch of blasting curses in the penthouse suite we were renting. Woke up both Pansy and Blaise who barged through my locking charms and restrained me and I completely lost it.

“They sat there with me for hours, talking me down, reminding me that I wanted to be something better and that I could. After a while I calmed a bit and we all just sat there on the ground at the foot of the bed in silence, those two drifting in and out of sleep I’m pretty sure, and something inside me clicked that I needed to take control of my life back; I made up my mind that I was done with hiding away from my problems and ready to finally do something that might make the world a little better. I told them both about the idea for Draconis Laboratories the next morning after we’d all pulled ourselves back together and they both said they wanted to join and that they had all the faith in the world in me. I don’t think any of us have been back to Spain in that capacity since. I jumped headfirst into getting the company set up and they started helping me recruit and plan for everything else that needed to happen.”

“Wow,” Hermione breathed, looking lost for words.

“I’m sorry I even brought it up. Spain was just the first place that popped into my head when she asked where I was going because I know it so well I could make up a whole weekend of sightseeing stories next week if I needed to.”

Hermione nodded slowly, still stunned as to how deep the background of that story really went, “Thank you for telling me.”

“Do you have questions you need me to answer?”

“It’s just a lot to process.”

“Well I certainly never tried to give off the illusion that I didn’t come with faults,” he said shortly, starting to feel a bit frustrated with her reaction since he was doing his best to be open with her. Much more open than he would ever be with anyone else and also much more open than he wanted to be. It was a turning point in his life, but one that was brought on by bad decisions and recklessness. Just another fucking reminder of everything he hated about himself. But she deserved to see him for what he was.

“I never asked you to be perfect,” she said softly, “I’m just processing what you’re telling me. I didn’t even know there were drugs in the wizarding world and that story was much more than I was expecting.”

“Look if you don’t want to go away for the weekend we can just bring the portkey back to the operator.”

Hermione let out a light huff, “Of course I still want to go away for the weekend. Just because I’m sifting through some profound new information, it doesn’t change how I feel about you. Not everything is so absolute. I know you, Draco. And I understand your past is rocky—”

“That’s putting it lightly.”

“—But I accept you for who you are, faults and all. I’m honestly just letting all of that sink in. And I’m sorry for bringing it back up, that can’t be easy for you to talk about.”

“Well it’s really Pansy’s fault, isn’t it? I think that comment was her way of forcing a reaction from me to make sure I wasn’t going there to relapse or something. Must have been able to tell I had my head on straight or else she wouldn’t have let me go so easily.”

“I know I’ll never understand what you were dealing with then, but I’m thankful Pansy and Blaise were there when you needed them.”

“Trust me, I am too. I don’t know what would have happened that night. I wish, for your sake, that I could change a lot of things I did so you wouldn’t have to accept these revelations about my past.”

“I don’t need you to apologize. You did that once and we moved forward,” the portkey in her hands started getting warm, pulling her attention as she looked down at it and then back up at Draco, holding it out for him, “So are you coming with me?”

He looked at her an extra second before his eyes dropped to the music box, which had started vibrating. He finally lifted his hand, grabbing the side of the box before it started shaking even harder. As he looked up again, she gave him a small, reassuring smile and a tug behind their bellybuttons whisked them away to France.

Draco stumbled back a step as they landed in an alleyway off Champs-Elysees and he let go of the portkey. Hermione placed it on the ground and stepped back, waiting a few seconds before it vibrated again and disappeared back to London.

Hermione turned to him, wanting to put a bow on their prior conversation, and slung her arms around his neck, “Everything that happened in your past got you to where you are now. I’m sorry you went through that moment in Spain, but I think you should be incredibly proud of everything you’ve overcome. I see the strength in it.”

He tried to muster a convincing grin as his hands landed on her waist, “Thank you for being consistently more than I deserve.”

“Maybe I’m exactly what you deserve,” she said cheekily, trying to lighten his mood.

“No, I promise you’re much more,” he moved her hair softly behind her ear and let her gaze push past the remorse and pain in his own. It was a gaze that warmed him to the core and he leaned down to capture her lips lightly; gratefully.

She smiled at him as they broke apart, “Shall we?” She stepped back and reached for his hand again, squeezing it lightly.

He nodded, still trying to shake the queasy feeling of releasing that story out loud after years of locking it away, but finding it oddly freeing at the same time; the release of another weight from his shoulders as Hermione took a small portion of it and banished it away into nothing, “Our hotel should be just a couple of blocks.”

O-o-o-o-o-o-o

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A relentless thank you for reviews and kudos <3 They make my day!
> 
> @ginnyfix21 on tumblr if you want to come find me!


	23. A Very Muggle Weekend

“This is going to be a silly question,” Draco leaned in towards Hermione with a low voice, “But do they really just go back and forth to _every_ table for _every_ little thing?”

She chuckled, “Yes, they really do.”

“What if I just needed a fork, or a water refill? They come all the way back for that?”

“They have to, Draco, they can’t very well levitate things over. Better get used to it, by the way, for our weekend of no magic. It’s like DADA class fifth year, _wands away_!”

He huffed, his eyes light, “I know, I know, I willingly agreed to the terms and it’ll be a... special experience. It’s just, you’d think they’d have come up with another solution,” he said, sitting back as the waiter returned with a large bottle of red wine, presenting it to Draco with white gloved hands.

“Le 1980 Cabernet Sauvignon, monsieur.”

Draco nodded and the waiter uncorked the selection, pouring a small amount into Draco’s wine glass. Well-versed in high society, Draco swirled it a few times between his fingers before taking a sip and inspecting the glass, “Oui, très bon.”

The waiter bowed his head before pouring full glasses for them and setting the bottle into a raised ice bucket beside their table before he retreated to the kitchens.

“You know a normal bottle of wine would have been just fine.”

“Speak for yourself,” he quirked his lip at her as he savored the jammy notes of the aged bottle.

“The hotel is beautiful,” Hermione said as she took a sip from her own glass, internally agreeing that the wine was exquisite, but not giving in to feed his ego of expensive taste just yet.

“I’m glad you like it, I thought it had a nice old-European charm to it that you’d appreciate.”

“I do. It’s very much my style, I was impressed,” she grinned back at him, glad to see his mood had improved since they’d arrived in Paris and put their travel conversation behind them. His tension had lingered for a little while, but now that they were diving into his thoughtfully planned itinerary, he seemed distracted from the old memories. And she’d heard enough to know it was not only a very long time ago but also clearly a very difficult time in his life where he knew he wasn’t making good decisions and reached the turning point that had helped him grow into the man she knew today. In any case, it didn’t seem like something she should worry about, if anything, it just added more color to the background she was still piecing together of his life and the mysterious twelve years between their acquaintanceship, “How _did_ you book a muggle hotel, by the way?”

“I asked Susan,” he sighed.

“Susan? Aren’t the Bones’ pureblood as well?”

“Halfblood,” he shrugged, “Heavily magical blood in their family but not one of the sacred twenty-eight so they’ve got muggle ancestry as well. Not that that’s important,” he added offhandedly, as though still breaking a habit ingrained in him for eighteen formative years, “We were talking one day and she mentioned some contraption that her muggleborn friend had shown her for travel — a plane I think she called it — and it sparked the idea in my mind of sightseeing Paris with you the muggle way. I don’t know why, something about travel and muggles and all the hype you’ve set up around this city,” he gave her a wry look that she returned, “So I asked her if she knew much about muggle travel because I was thinking of traveling and laying low by staying in a muggle city — really having an anonymous weekend off the wizarding grid. She asked her friend and eventually told me about tellies or something like that. Turns out the visitor's entrance to the Ministry is one, by the way, but I’m sure you knew that.”

Hermione’s lips were in a wide grin, “I did, yes. Very normal muggle device. Most _telephones_ these days actually fit in peoples’ pockets!”

“Very creative, these muggles. Anyway, I used one of the telly boxes to call a muggle travel agency she gave me the name of. It was kind of an ordeal, I can’t say I was very suave if I’m being honest, it took me seven tries to dial correctly and then I yelled a bit in the beginning because I wasn’t sure if they could hear me. Figured it out eventually and they helped me set up a reservation for the nicest hotel in the area.”

Hermione was laughing now, “Ron yelled once when he called Harry at his Aunt and Uncles’ back in second year. Didn’t go well.”

“Can’t imagine it did with the muggles he had to deal with.”

“Yes, they were tough,” she gave him a small smile, “Not all muggles are like that though. My parents probably would have laughed when they realized what the yelling was for.”

“I wouldn’t have made the assumption that his were the norm based on what Potter’s told me. How was New Years with your parents, by the way?”

“Very nice, uneventful,” she took a sip of her wine, relaxing back into her chair, “They both retired this year; sold their business a few months ago. So they’ve been traveling a lot and attending the theater when they’re in town.”

“Sounds delightful. Your parents owned a business?”

“Well they owned their own dental practice… I think I mentioned they care for teeth as their profession.”

“Right,” he nodded, “Still, entrepreneurs, that’s impressive," something he could relate to them on, he noted with a tinge of internal relief, "As freeing as retirement is, I’m sure it must have been hard to step away from something they built. I can’t imagine a day when I pass Draconis Laboratories on."

“It was tough,” Hermione agreed, “They actually planned on retiring two years ago but they kept pushing it back because of one thing or another coming up on the calendar, even after they’d brought on a couple of new dentists to pass the business down to when they left.”

“I hope to keep Draconis Laboratories in the family, you know, one day,” Draco said thoughtfully.

“So you’d like kids then, I presume?” Hermione raised an eyebrow.

Draco nodded slowly, realizing the implication of his comment, but before he could respond the waiter returned.

“What can I get you for dinner tonight?” he asked in english, picking up on their british accents early on even as they both conducted their greetings and ordering in French.

They ordered their meals, the waiter taking a mental note before he collected their menus and refilled their wine glasses, departing back to the kitchen.

Left alone again, Hermione looked expectantly back at Draco with a coy smile on her face.

“Yes, I think I would, in the right circumstances.”

“And what circumstances are those?”

“Well I’d like to feel comfortable that I’ve done my part in improving the stigma around my name so it won’t haunt my future children. Not that I’m sure it’ll ever go away completely, but I’ve got things I need to accomplish first. And of course I’d only want to start a family with the right person. But I do hope those things happen. I like kids, believe it or not.”

“I do believe you,” she said honestly, “I saw you with Finn, I thought you were great with him.”

“Part of me misses the innocence of being young,” he said with a crooked smile, “I like interacting with kids because they see the world through rose colored glasses that I lost a long time ago.”

“We’ll have to buy you a new pair then.”

His smile pulled a little wider and he chuckled, “And what about you, do you see children in your future?”

“Maybe,” she sighed, “I always told myself I’d love to have a family if I found a good partner. I don’t feel the need to have children but I would enjoy building a family.”

“I like that outlook,” Draco swirled the wine in his glass as he considered it, “Sounds like we feel similarly on the issue then. I’d want to feel my children were being raised in a loving, open environment; something I didn’t always have. If I couldn’t provide my contribution to that, or didn’t feel my partner would, I wouldn’t have them just to have them.”

“I think you’d make a great dad, based on what I’ve seen.”

“I’d certainly have a lot of life lessons to bestow.”

“All we can hope to do is help the next generation learn from our experiences, good and bad.”

Draco nodded, once again feeling warmed by her perception of what he brought to the table, “So do your parents badger you about settling down like my mother does to me?”

“They always ask if there’s _anyone special_ in my life,” she laughed, her cheeks tinging pink.

“And what did you tell them this year?”

“I told them no because they’d already picked up on the repetitive mention of a certain businessman I’d been working with. Honestly I just didn’t want to worry them. It’ll be better to tell them about our relationship after our coworking situation has ended.”

“That’s still a ways away,” he commented.

“Is that a question of if we’ll last that long or a personal feeling that it’s a while to wait to tell my parents about you?” She quipped.

He grinned at her cool look, knowing she was likely quite curious what his response would be, “The latter.”

“Your first course,” the waiter pulled their attention as he set a tin of caviar in the middle of the table with an array of accoutrements, “Bon appetit.”

“Thank you,” they both echoed.

“Well, if it’s important to you, I can tell them,” she said once they were alone again, reaching for a toasted point and a spread of crème fraiche, “I almost did while I was home, I just thought we’d agreed to keep this private.”

“Which I would understand,” he conceded, “But they’re your parents. You’ve said yourself they’re not a part of your wizarding world life so I feel like of anyone we could tell, they’re the safest, aren’t they?”

“I guess you’re right,” she lifted her eyes to him, “I get the feeling you don’t like being a secret.”

“Not when I don’t have to be. I understand our discretion in the wizarding world because I respect your career, but I worry that you not telling your parents about me may stem from you not wanting to explain who I am because perhaps they wouldn’t approve.”

She wasn’t used to seeing him vulnerable in this sense, though he was playing it off nonchalantly, “I’m certainly not embarrassed of you, Draco, I hope you know that. I do know that there will be some explanation of who you are and what that means with my parents, but it’s a conversation I’m not afraid to have when the time comes.”

“What if they aren’t comfortable with you dating me?”

“Well, I mean, I’ll explain that the project is only going on another seven months—”

“Not because of the project, because of the prior Death Eater life thing.”

“Oh, right,” she shook her head a little, “I’m sure they’ll have a lot of questions, at first, but they’re generally very supportive and level-headed; compassionate.”

“But say, hypothetically, that they can’t see past it.”

“Draco, I love my parents and I value their opinion, but no matter what that opinion is, it would never sway mine because I _know_ you. And I truly think that even if they react adversely, they’re very reasonable. They’ll come around to getting to know you and they’ll let that paint their judgment. Once they get to know you, I have no doubt they’ll approve. I can’t promise it won’t take some time, but I do expect them to give you that chance.”

He nodded slowly at her response.

“And did you tell Narcissa?”

“I told her I was seeing someone,” he said with a glance as he sprinkled some capers onto his next bite, “But, no, I didn’t tell her it was you because I didn’t want her to tell my father yet.”

“Because you don’t think he’d approve? Seems we’ve come full circle.”

“I know he wouldn’t,” he sighed, “But it’s more for your safety that I didn’t want to, not because I care about his opinion.”

“You think he’d retaliate in some way if you were dating me?”

“I’m not sure. I would hope not, I just haven’t decided how to broach the subject yet. He’s always been a savvy businessman himself so I’m a bit afraid that his retaliation would be to expose our personal relationship within our working relationship because he'd understand the damage it could cause _you_. Makes the decision a little more convoluted.”

“Your mother didn’t push you about who you were dating?”

“She rattled off a few names of her friends’ single daughters around my age and then she noted she couldn’t think of any other pureblood families with daughters in the right age range and I noted that you were not pureblood and she kind of dropped the questioning. I think she figures the less she knows the better, sometimes.”

“Is she going to care that I’m muggleborn?”

“I don’t think she’ll _care_ , per se, but it’ll take some time for her to get it, I think; to understand the normality of it and get used to saying it casually. She won’t be upset, just unsure how to react. _But_ she’ll know Lucius will care and she’s not very good at keeping secrets. Honestly, she’ll be more embarrassed about your perception of her when she realizes _who_ I’m dating. Obviously your experience with my family isn’t pleasant. She’ll recognize your name and she’ll just be affronted of what you must think of her. I can guarantee you an awkward introduction after that. But she will want you to like her once it all settles. She wants to be a part of my life, we’re just still figuring out how that works if she still wants Lucius in hers.”

“Well this will be fun with both sets of parents, won’t it,” she gave him a dry smile.

“But we knew that already, didn’t we?”

“We did,” she said definitively, dropping the joking tone and reaching her hand across the table to cover his, “And we’ll face it together.”

“Your main course,” the waiter had returned with two plates of food as Hermione pulled her hand back, another waiter taking their empty first course plates from the other side of the table.

The conversation turned to the rest of Draco’s visit with Narcissa, which was decently uneventful and centered around the lab. He had mentioned taking a trip to Paris and she’d assumed Montmartre before he clarified that he’d be sightseeing the muggle side. She’d raised her eyebrows and responded with _‘Ah, well won’t that be… interesting!’_ before she’d changed the subject, once again assuming the less she knew about the reason for his visit, the better.

Draco and Hermione had finally made it back to the hotel late that evening, after a stroll down to the Arc de Triomphe, and curled in bed with a freshly opened bottle of champagne and a book in each of their hands. As much as they wanted to enjoy the lifted weight of responsibility that came with a weekend away, they were also committed to going to bed at a reasonable time in order to be ready for Draco’s Saturday itinerary.

o-o-o

Hermione awoke the next morning burrowed into Draco’s side, head resting on his shoulder and arm draped over him. She could feel his fingers softly grazing up and down her arm and she took a deep, contented breath before blinking her eyes open sleepily. She tilted her head up towards him as he pulled his gaze from the opposite wall to meet hers.

“Good morning,” his expression was guarded but it was clear he was trying to push himself out of it as he grinned and leaned down to kiss her, his lips lingering pleasantly on hers an extra moment.

“Have you been up long?” She asked with a slight mumble, not making any moves at all from her current position that she quite liked.

“I’ve been in and out for a bit,” he said before he elaborated, “Bad dream. It happens.”

“I get them too,” she said quietly, inferring from the unsteady look on his face that it was likely a war dream, “Sorry you didn’t sleep well.”

“It’s fine. It seems that I at least do marginally less brooding when I wake up from it to find you next to me.”

She leaned up and kissed him again, trying to exhale some of her own calm as he breathed it in, “Good, this isn’t a weekend for brooding.”

“No, it certainly isn’t,” he said, relaxing a little as he turned onto his side and pulled her flush against him, capturing her lips more fully as she sighed into the kiss, her hand cupping his face, feeling that if they just stayed just like this for the rest of the day she’d have been perfectly happy. But after stealing a few more kisses, he pulled back, glancing over her shoulder at the clock, “Probably about time we get up anyway. Fancy a shower? I think it looked big enough for two.”

She grinned at him, “Seems like a good way to start the day.”

They followed Draco’s itinerary for the morning, which took them to a small café off the beaten path of the main roads, (“A recommendation from the travel agency; told them we needed some character in our destinations.”), and then to a small used book shop close by. Although there were one or two other things on the list before lunch, they’d ended up settling into the chairs at the bookstore when Hermione had pulled down a book on common house plants for holistic remedies and Draco had begun guessing which herbs from their own magical greenhouses would also show up in a muggle book. After lunch they’d made it to the Louvre where Hermione had dragged him around to all of her favorite paintings and he’d casually suggested buying one to take home.

“You can’t just… you can’t just buy a Michelangelo,” she looked at him incredulously.

“Well why not? My father used to get a lot of our artwork for the manor from local museums.”

“Do you have any concept of how expensive these things are, Draco?”

He wrinkled his nose, “Perhaps I don’t.” 

“Multi- _Millions_ ,” she laughed, “Of muggle dollars! That’s… well that’s still millions of galleons!”

“I don’t have that kind of money anymore, do I,” he said rhetorically, looking back up at the painting, “Well I guess it’s a good thing I do still have the money to at least take you to look at them for a weekend.”

“How much of the inheritance from your grandmother _did_ you keep?” Hermione asked cheekily as they moved on to the next painting.

“Enough to start the company, buy my townhouse and get myself set up to live comfortably. But nothing in excess. Once I felt my main investments were taken care of, I put a responsible amount in savings to cover my lifestyle, and of course to serve as a building block for the future and any emergencies that could arise, and then donated the rest to war relief efforts and foundations for families who lost loved ones. That donation could have bought you a few Michelangelos, not that it’s something I feel needs to be mentioned, by the way,” he said as an aside with a smart look, “You just have to remember that without the expenses of housing payments and such, all the money I make now just gets added onto that savings I built for myself. I started ahead of most people and I acknowledge that, but I tried not to be greedy about what I had to allocate. And although the company isn’t thriving yet with most of our potions still in development, we still cover our operating costs, which includes salaries.”

“Do you pay yourself a nice salary then?” She joked.

“I like the word comfortable. I make sure to pay my employees well because they’re essential to getting us where we need to be, but truth be told I pay myself less than I pay my executives. They don’t know that. But I told myself I wouldn’t start taking a real CEO salary until I felt I’d earned it. So once these products hit shelves I’ll bump my salary up to theirs. But until then I pay myself a comfortable amount to pay my bills and continue to add to my already adequate savings and I try not to focus on it outside of that. I don’t foresee myself ever being worried about my finances but hopefully if all goes well with these potions lines, and whatever I develop in the future, I’d like to leave a little legacy for my potential children.”

“You know what else is a great investment?”

“What’s that?”

“A good partner.”

He chuckled with a nod of his head, “Granger if we end up together, I’ve already accepted that at some point you will be vastly more successful than me. And I quite like that.”

“I think that’s an overstatement,” she laughed, “But just a reminder that you may not have to be on your own to build an empire.”

“And what fun is an empire anyway, without someone to enjoy it with. Besides, with you by my side, Granger, we could all but rule the world.”

They shared a look of mutual contentment with the conversation of hypotheticals and how easy it flowed between them before Hermione looked back at the painting in front of them, clearing her throat a little from the butterflies that had overtaken her stomach, and commenting on the style of art.

o-o-o

“What do you think Past-Draco would say to present-Draco about everything he gave up if he ever found a Time-Turner?” She quipped as they wandered the streets back to the hotel before dinner.

“I think he’d have a lot to say about the luxuries I chose to indulge in,” his lip quirked as he looked over at her, “I don’t think my past self would have any idea how he could exist in a two bedroom townhouse with no grand ballroom or overstuffed library and not a house elf in sight to cook dinner. But I like to think he’d be proud of what we’ve become. Little git or not, even that Draco just wanted to feel smart and successful and I think if someone I looked up to at that time in my life had ever told me it was okay to throw my blood purity bias in the trash, I may have warmed up to the idea. I just didn’t have that influence in my life to help me get my head on straight. Not that it’s an excuse,” he added in, “I made my own choices. But I think if I ever accidentally met my past self he’d just realize a little sooner that it was okay to just drop it all; that there was pride and success outside of the means he’d been taught. But I couldn’t do that, could I? Time travel rules and all.”

She laughed lightly, “Trust me, I know all about those.”

“What have you time traveled or something?” He scoffed.

“Yes, actually.”

She delved into her story of third year and her class schedule overlaps that had allowed her the privilege of using a time turner. Draco had been shocked, completely unaware that anyone he knew may have gotten their hands on such a precious artifact before they were all destroyed by the Ministry. 

They’d freshened up for dinner and gone to a fancy restaurant nearby where Hermione continued on with the story of how Harry met Sirius and the chain of events that had saved Buckbeak, which Draco plucked up the courage to apologize for, again embarrassed by the things he’d done in his younger years, but relieved to hear the hippogriff found a happy ending.

They’d enjoyed another vintage bottle of wine before they set off on a walk for their last activity of the day.

“Wow,” he breathed, a hint of genuine awe in his voice as they stopped.

“I told you,” she smiled as his arms wrapped around her from behind, “And it never gets less astounding, no matter how many times I’ve seen it.”

“I see what you meant now.”

“And how does it make you feel?”

He took a deep breath, his gaze fixed on the glimmering lights that lit up the Eiffel Tower, which stood profoundly in the gardens, seemingly illuminating the whole city. The steel of the structure gave off a depiction of strength and defiance, while the glow surrounding it softened it into something alluringly whimsical. For a moment he couldn't help but compare those aspects to Hermione herself: strong and feisty, but soft and beautiful.

His gaze fell again to the small dots of people wandering around it; some with cameras, some with lovers, and some just standing there taking it all in and he let a long breath out of his nose, “I feel blissfully small in a big wide world, or some nonsense like that.”

She turned her head to look back at him with a wide smile that he met with a wry grin, “Did you just quote me?”

“It was a statement that caught my attention when you first said it,” he said, “And now I understand,” he leaned down and kissed her softly, her fingers tracing their way along his hands, loving the feeling of being engulfed in his embrace in her favorite city in the world. They stood there for a few minutes drinking in the view and the ambiance, surrounded by the light buzzing sounds of the streets nearby and the casual conversation of passersby. 

Sufficiently relaxed, Hermione sighed, turning fully towards him and wrapping her arms around his back as he pushed her hair over her shoulder, his hand finding the back of her neck as their eyes met with a spark reserved only for them. He kissed her more deeply, a shiver running down her back that may have had something to do with the winter chill in the air, or his warm breath on her lips, or some combination of the two.

“So are you feeling the romance in this romantic city yet?” He asked in a low voice when they finally parted and she laughed lightly.

“Very much so.”

He leaned down for another lingering kiss as his thumb brushed down the side of her neck, her entire body warming and she sighed again.

“Thank you for taking me here, Draco. This has been wonderful to share with you.”

“Thank _you_ for defending it so wildly that I had to see what the fuss was about. It's lived up to the hype quite well so far. Now," his fingers were making their way softly — too softly — down her throat in the most enticingly suggestive way, "Shall we get back to the hotel?”

They shared another look before he turned, offering his arm as she looped hers through it and they began the walk back to their street. The night was cold, but there was a fire that held between them that had nothing to do with magic as they talked lightly about future trips and hypothetical plans that felt like they solidified something unspoken.

When they’d finally reached their room, the door had barely shut before jackets were shed and clothes were discarded, their hands roaming each other almost greedily as they made their way to the bed, lips glued back together between breathy words of longing they’d held in on their walk back. 

As the back of her knees hit the bed, he turned her around. It happened so fast she barely registered it before his lips were at her neck, kissing her softly as goosebumps flooded her arms, her hands finding the bed to brace herself against as she felt him between her legs. Her head tilted back to rest on his shoulder as his fingers ran pleasantly across her skin, finding just the right places to caress.

“ _Draco_ ,” it came out in a whisper, but held a tone to it that made her intentions clear.

His kisses moved up her neck and to her jawline as her head turned towards him for one more kiss before he pressed into her, working his way slowly as her head lulled to the side again with a sharp inhale. 

He paused for a moment as he filled her, hugging her tightly to him with an almost inaudible groan before he felt her push back against him.

He grinned, his hands finding her waist and holding her firmly to him for another second of patience before he started moving inside her, which was met by soft moans of gratitude. His lips found her shoulder, taking in the feelings he could wrap his head around in the moment; how her skin heated at his touch; how her hair tickled his chest with their bodies pressed together; how his heart rate quickened as her arm reached behind her to slip around the back of his neck, her fingers gliding ardently through his hair.

His teeth grazed her shoulder and a more pronounced moan fell from her lips as she pushed back against him again before his grip firmed and a smirk formed at his lips. As her fingers wound more prominently into his hair, his eyes closed and he finally gave in to what she wanted as he pushed into her harder, his pace picking up with the volume of moans so graciously meeting his ears. Thoughts of their trip back in the morning felt a million miles away from this moment, and this feeling of unabashed lust cultivated from a day of sightseeing in the city of romance. 

O-o-o-o-o-o-o

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've hit the 100k word mark! Always exciting, and we are nowhere near finished :) Thank you so much for kudos and reviews, seeing the notifications pop up is the bright spot in my busy weeks!!


	24. The Lab

Hermione toweled her hair as she stepped out of the bathroom clad in a fuzzy hotel bathrobe and matching slippers. As she lifted her eyes to the room, she was met by the sight of Draco lounging in a casual pair of sleep pants, shirtless in one of the armchairs by the floor-to-ceiling window of their top floor suite overlooking the busy Sunday morning shoppers on the street below. His gaze turned to her as she smiled back at him, doing her best to move her hips in a passable sashay before she dropped the towel on the ground by his feet. She took a seat on his lap, slinging her arms around his neck, his hand reaching up to hang from her arm.

The Dark Mark caught in her peripheral and she almost, _almost_ , turned her eyes to it. He rarely left it uncovered unless they were in bed and it wasn't usually her focus when they were. But it looked somehow even more distinctly black than normal as though it were freshly inked. And it was protruding, almost pushing up through his skin into something raised. _Did it always do that?_ Perhaps it was something about seeing it in the light. She kept her focus on him, though, letting the feeling of his fingers brushing the fabric of her robe tingle and the pull at the corner of his lip fill her thoughts, not wanting the Dark Mark to take this moment from them as it dissolved from her mind.

“What if we just stay,” she sighed, picking up the notes of blue in his eyes again, reflecting the morning light.

“If only life could be that easy,” he said in a low voice before she leaned down to press her lips against his. They lingered there for a few seconds of carefree weightlessness that their normal, busy, work filled days rarely included. 

“You could just set up a little local apothecary and I could take over the Parisian ministry. We could do it.”

He grinned at her, “Maybe a summer house, one day. You’ve still got an English Ministry to take over first.”

“And I guess you’ve got a legacy to finish building as well, don’t you.”

“I do,” he captured her lips again as she leaned back into him, exhaling his breath slowly through his nose.

Her fingers traced lightly up his chest, absently following one of the large scars across his abdomen.

He lifted her hand gently and moved it to a clearer part of chest without breaking their kiss, but she pulled back instinctively.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was-”

“It’s fine,” his tone was calm, lazy even in a Sunday haze, “They’re just sensitive this morning,” at her questioning gaze, he elaborated, “I had an — after shock — earlier, while you were in the shower. I’m not taking the trial potion right now since I’ll be brewing a new batch to test soon. The jolts, when I do get them, make all the scars more sensitive for a bit,” he flexed his left arm subconsciously.

“They have the same effect on mine,” she said quietly with a small quirk to her lip, “Must be something about cursed scars,” she let her gaze fall to his chest. She didn’t usually, knowing he didn’t like to talk about it, but curiosity getting the better of her.

After a moment of silence, Draco took a deep breath, “They’re from the Sectumsempra spell,” he said and her eyes jumped back to his.

“From — Harry?” her voice held surprise but she realized it should have been obvious. She didn’t know the extent of the torture he’d been through under Voldemort and she’d always just assumed it was from that time in his life; but it wasn’t. The scars were put there by her best friend in an instant of careless defense never intended to inflict what it had.

He just nodded, he truly did not enjoy talking about them. That day, that moment in his life standing over the sink in defeat was one of his lowest points. Not _the_ lowest, that title was held by the day Hermione lay on his drawing room floor. But that day in the bathroom in a duel with Potter was certainly on the list.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize—”

“It’s really fine. I don’t know why I didn’t just tell you before, it’s just, well, it’s another difficult conversation.”

“Of course it is, we don’t need to have it right now.”

“Maybe best to, though, since it’s already started and I'm somewhat relaxed from this wonderful weekend. Might be a good anchor for it.”

She just nodded back at him, unsure what to say.

“I don’t blame him. I deserve every one of these scars,” his eyes moved from hers, looking past her out the window, “At least someone was trying to get me to stop what I was doing, you know. Severus, he just wanted to get involved, _help_ me complete my task, even. Or at least it felt that way at the time. I guess knowing his loyalties now, I’m not entirely sure what he was doing in regards to me. But Potter was the first one to try and stop me. It kind of woke me up. All that time I’d been focused on either getting the cabinet to work or facing the Dark Lord. Two outcomes, no more; no others.”

“And then,” she prompted as he got quiet again, lost in his own sea of memories.

“And then Potter came in and hit me with that dark spell, Severus had to save me from dying on the bathroom floor and then I spent more time than I'd have liked in the hospital wing recovering. I think it just clicked in my head that everything — the war — was bigger than me and those two outcomes. There were a thousand ways this war could break me; could kill me; could kill my whole family. And it might have nothing to do with displeasing the Dark Lord. It was like the first crack in my foundation of why I was doing everything I was doing. I still didn’t see another alternative so I kept going, but my foundation was less stable; less sure.”

“What was the next?” her voice was even and placating.

“Dumbledore,” there was a noticeable lack of emotion in the name and as she searched his eyes that still weren’t looking her way, she saw an odd kind of shadow behind them; one that told her he wasn’t fully present as he said it. And then, in a flash, the shadow disappeared and he blinked, finally turning back to her, “He offered me respite and my foundation cracked further; fully split in two. I was still on the wrong side of it, but I saw the clean break in everything and I knew I wanted to get to the other side where a whole new myriad of outcomes would be. And then Snape came and finished the job and well, I didn’t know how to bridge the divide after that, best I could do in my meager state was not sell you out to him,” his fingers found a stray curl that had started to dry and crinkle up and he focused his attention on it, pulling it down softly and watching it bounce back, “So these scars, as much of a bother as I find them sometimes, they’re almost a positive reminder for me of the first crack in my foundation of following the Dark Lord.”

“What about the foundation of your ideals that brought you to that place?” a deeper question, but one that fit with the conversation.

“The summer before. The ministry worker brought to the manor for me to torture after my initiation,” an easy answer, one he’d already explained before, “But the foundation of what I thought I needed to do was still firm. Do what the Dark Lord says, or die. But that foundation isn’t quite as strong when you nearly die by another hand doing what you don't want to but think you have to.”

“There’s a lot going on in your head... all the time, isn’t there?” she looked at him sadly.

“Most of my free time is spent reflecting on where I could have turned it all around earlier,” his face turned back to her and he gave her a crooked smile.

“You know, you’ve turned it around quite well by this point,” she lifted her hand, pushing back the hair that had fallen across his forehead as he talked and sweeping her fingers back around his ear where they settled.

“Well enough to at least earn your favor, so I really couldn't ask for more,” his eyes flicked between hers as though looking for something, “I’m not done, though. There’s more work to do and I’m up for the challenge.” 

“I know you are,” a real smile this time, warmed and broadened by the determination in his eyes; in his words. The definitive end to the story he'd felt ready to share. She leaned in and kissed him softly as his hands slid beneath the bottom of her robe and landed around mid-thigh, caressing but not pushing. It was a sweet gesture; a tender touch with no intentions, but sincere appreciation. It was a calming draught like no other and she sighed into him as he sighed into her.

She deepened the kiss, mouth opening as he mirrored her, their tongues meeting lightly in the middle. It was slow and deliberate and seemed to speak volumes of words unsaid but mutually understood. They had a past, a complicated, deviating, windy overgrown lane of a past with dark corners and secrets hidden in bushes. But they navigated it together, shaking out what needed to be acknowledged and taking hold of the narrative that went over it all. Their past; their stories, they were _theirs_. To accept, to dissect and discern, to share. It all belonged to them and the more they could entwine those pasts and stories, the more connected they seemed to come out of it. 

The hardest conversation had happened months ago and everything after was just another step forward. They were still difficult and intricate, but posed in a space of openness and comfort, which made it possible. It’s what made their entire relationship possible. And beautiful. And powerful. And unequivocally _theirs_.

His hand had started moving up her leg again, intention placed back into its movements from her encouragement as she sighed a breathier sigh against his lips, shifting into a better position against him, legs on either side of his and fingers losing themselves in their favorite abyss of blonde hair.

He pulled at the strings of her robe as they undid easily and the front fell open for his hands to roam the skin that had filled his thoughts since she stepped out of the bathroom. A low growl escaped his throat as one of her hands made its way towards his pajama bottoms. 

“Mm, Hermione,” he got out between heavy kisses, “I may have made,” another kiss, “a small, misguided,” another, longer, moan inducing kiss, “mistake earlier.”

“What kind of mistake?” she asked, not at all caring about the answer as she barely let the words out before her lips found his again.

A knock came at the door and Draco huffed through his nose, lips not wanting to leave hers. But of course, she pulled back.

“Who would that be?” Hermione said in breathless annoyance, brows furrowed at the interruption.

“Breakfast,” he gave her an apologetic grimace as she looked at him, blinking a few times before she laughed, giving him a small, uncharacteristic pout before stealing one more kiss and climbing off his lap to return to the bathroom. He groaned louder, knocking his head back against the back of the chair a few times as a louder knock hit the door. 

“This is your own fault,” she called teasingly, shutting the bathroom door as Draco finally dragged himself from the chair and went to answer the call. 

Hermione returned a few minutes later dressed for the day with her hair in a bun to deal with after breakfast. She took the armchair across from Draco as her eyes raked over the spread of pastries and fruit, “I am quite hungry, now that you mention it.” 

“I’d have preferred some other activities first,” Draco said wryly from a small coffee trolley left by the door, “But now that it’s here, Bon Appetit.” He walked over, handing her a fresh mug, prepared just as she liked it and leaned down for a quick kiss before returning to his chair.

“And you’re sure we can’t stay,” she asked rhetorically as she gratefully took the mug and tucked a leg underneath her to settle in and enjoy the thoughtful and ill-timed breakfast that Draco had surprised her with.

o-o-o

After breakfast, they’d taken off for their last day of sightseeing, packing their bags into Hermione’s purse with an undetectable extension charm. Hermione made Draco take the metro on their way to Notre Dame, which Draco had described as one of the most embarrassing and harrowing experiences of his life as he fought with the ticket machine before trying to insert the card every which way in the turnstiles. They’d had to run to catch the metro that was already on the tracks, jumping on as the doors closed right behind them.

From Notre Dame they’d walked to the Love Locks bridge, where Draco had inconspicuously conjured a padlock to add to its contents, Hermione giving him the slightest chiding glare before looking around herself and then slipping out her own wand to inscribe their initials with a date on the side. As a last minute addition, she tapped it once more to add a quick locator charm, “You know so we can find it again if we ever come back to add another date. No more magic though, this was supposed to be a weekend without wands.”

He gave a light laugh, “I just figured we had to add a lock if we’re here.”

“I’m glad you did,” she slipped her own wand back into her jacket and then her hand back in his as they stood and wandered through the crowds of people towards a bistro nearby. 

They’d enjoyed a leisurely lunch before apparating to the outskirts of the city to meet the Portkey Operator for their travel back to London, which took them to a side street off of Diagon Alley. 

As soon as the portkey had disappeared back to France, Draco pulled Hermione to him, “Did you enjoy your weekend away?” He asked between kisses.

“Mmhmm,” she breathed, still smiling, not ready to come back to reality just yet.

“I had a wonderful time being there with you,” he said before planting a longer kiss on her lips.

She finally pulled back with a deep exhale, “Thank you for everything this weekend. It was perfect. And, admittedly, it was also very fun to watch you struggle with muggle money and technology.”

“Yes that was… humbling,” he sighed.

She pulled him back down for another smooth kiss, “I wish the weekend was longer,” there was something in her voice that told him she wasn’t quite ready to go and his lip quirked up.

“I mean, we could elongate it just a little if you’d like to stop back at my townhouse. Maybe stay for dinner before you head home to inevitably jump into the weekend work you said you weren’t going to do.”

She rolled her eyes as though that wasn’t her plan for the evening, “I guess I could, you know if you don’t mind cooking and such.”

“I think I’ve got just the ingredients to whip you up something nice.”

He turned, his arm slipping around her waist as she leaned into him, and they began walking up the alley. Before the street, however, she paused.

“Oh, we… we can’t do this here,” she said a little awkwardly, pulling herself away as his arm dropped.

“Right... of course, I just — forgot, sorry.”

“I did too for a moment,” she gave him a small smile that he tried to return, but it seemed stunted. 

“It’s not forever,” he said, partially to remind himself, "How about I go on ahead and you can follow me in a minute.”

“Okay,” she leaned up and gave him another kiss, squeezing his hand before she let him go and he disappeared around the corner. She could tell there was tension in his words — the first sign that their secret romance may be slightly getting to him. But she knew he understood, underneath it.

She waited another minute before she turned the corner herself, walking along the cobblestone streets of Diagon Alley towards Wenlock Cove. The afternoon air was brisk, but a ray of sunshine was poking through the clouds. She walked the steps to Draco’s townhouse and pushed open the door that had been left ajar for her. However the scene she was met with as she entered was one that made her stop in the doorway, “What’s wrong?”

Draco was standing rigidly by the open window next to the door, his eyes darting back and forth across a piece of parchment.

“I need to go to the lab.”

“Why Draco, what happened?”

He handed her the parchment, grabbing his bag from the floor and walking quickly into his bedroom as Hermione’s eyes dropped to the message.

_Seems your lab lacks security. Good luck cleaning up the mess. Or better yet, you may as well just shut the whole operation down, because if you don’t, we’ll be back._

_You may think you’ve risen above the dark arts, but it will always be a part of you and you will never erase the damage inflicted. Consider this your last warning._

Hermione reread it several times before following Draco to his room where he was going through a small drawer of letters. He finally pulled one out, scanning it before holding his hand out. Hermione walked over and gave him the parchment as he looked back and forth between the two.

“It’s different handwriting,” his brows furrowed, looking up at her as though she’d understand.

“What’s that one?”

He handed it to her.

_Stop what you’re doing. History is not meant to be erased._

“We need to go to the lab,” she repeated his prior sentiments a little breathlessly.

He nodded, looking at a total loss for words as they shared a look before they both hurried back towards the door. At the bottom of the stairs they apparated to the alley beside the Draconis Laboratories building, walking around the front and into the building. They took the elevator up to the top floor and stepped off into the reception area. It looked just as they’d left it as their footsteps echoed across the marble floors and they rounded the corner to the main hallway. 

“The labs all have different security protections around them on the nights and weekends,” Draco said offhandedly as he unlocked the first testing lab and poked his head in, “This one looks okay at first glance.”

They continued on, finding the greenhouses and executive offices sufficiently locked as well, until they’d reached Draco’s office. The door was closed, but up one further inspection, he realized his protection charms were down.

“ _Fuck_ ,” his heart stopped in his chest as he turned the knob and pushed the door open, the scene before him making his mind blank for a fraction of a second. Papers covered the floors, the drawers of his desk and the file cabinet in the corner flung open and raided. He crossed the room, opening the lab door to another groan of horror. 

Hermione followed him across the office, finally finding her own feet again, and looked around at the destruction. Beakers and vials were smashed on the floor, cauldrons were overturned, books were knocked from their shelves and drawers were unloaded. It looked as though one corner had been left untouched, the one surrounding the sink. She knew he kept all of his brewing plans, written mixtures, and important documents in the bottom cabinet, and his expensive materials, like the brains, in the upper cabinet so she felt a small momentary rush of relief that his extra protections on that side of the room seemed to have worked. All of his proprietary knowledge was safe.

She turned back to share the good news, but stopped, unable to find her voice as she watched him rifle through the vial cabinets frantically before abandoning them and moving on to the adjacent cupboards. The look in his eyes was almost a bit wild and it seemed to have frozen her to the spot.

“No, no, come on,” he muttered under his breath, “It’s been locked away for ages and now… _now…_ where is it… _fuck_ ,” the last word came out much louder than the others as he leaned on his hands, head hanging between his arms looking like he was either lost in thought or about to completely break down.

“Draco…” Hermione said hesitantly, “I know you lost a lot of work today—”

“But _that_ potion,” he blurted out before he bit his tongue again.

Hermione paused for a moment to try and make sense of his uttering before it clicked, “The purple one… the one I grabbed down from the locked cabinets… it wasn’t just a bad mix was it?”

“No it fucking wasn’t,” he said through gritted teeth, “It should have stayed up there. It's my own fault.”

“What was it, Draco? Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“Because maybe I wasn’t ready to,” he rounded on her, eyes blazing with fire at the mess in front of them, “Maybe I just needed some more time.”

“But what kind of potion would you want to hide from me?” She asked quietly, “Unless it was… Draco were you brewing one of your… party potions?”

He stared at her with an unreadable expression, mouth opening but no sound coming out before he closed it again, his eyes narrowing, “Get out.”

“What?” 

“I said I want you to _leave_.”

“Draco if you still have a problem with those potions we can talk about this—”

He let out a dark laugh, “You’ve got to be kidding me. Just get out,” He enunciated the words in a dangerously low voice. A shiver ran down her back as she watched his eyes dissolve into shadows again, empty, and a dark shade of grey; so very opposite of the blue flecks glistening in them that same morning.

“Draco—”

“NOW,” he yelled, losing his temper and turning away from her again as if he'd even surprised himself with his outburst, fists clenching as he tried to keep himself somewhat in check while she was still in the room.

Hermione gaped at him, unbelieving of his reaction before she backed up a few steps, turned, and walked shakily from the lab. Before she’d even reached the other side of his office, she heard the slamming of the lab door followed by the sound of breaking glass. Tears formed behind her eyes and she grabbed her bag from the chair before she left the office, a tirade of thoughts flooding her numb mind. She was shocked, and almost nauseous by being pushed away by such callous words. And it had been so sudden. He'd gone from despair and anger towards the intruders to moving his anger to her with a simple question. _But why_? Maybe she had just been the only other outlet and the anger had gotten misplaced in the heat of it. He clearly regretted it as soon as he'd yelled by the looks of it. But even with his words still ringing in her head, she had one very prevalent thought at the forefront: _should she go back_?

He’d quite plainly told her to leave. But as she reached the reception area she teetered on her feet. What about the story he’d told her about Spain and how Blaise and Pansy talked him down in his lowest moment. Maybe he wanted her to leave, but maybe he needed her to stay. They'd just had such a beautiful weekend together and she'd felt so close to him not mere hours ago. This outburst was the product of circumstance. And they weren't the kind of couple that shied away from difficult matters. She expected and apology, which was nonnegotiable, but he needed her now, to be there for him, and she knew that, even if he didn't.

She turned on her heel and walked back towards the lab, trying to figure out how best to handle the situation. As she reached the closed door, she set her bag down before she sat herself against the wall, leaning her head back on it. She could hear sobs coming from within his lab, which were followed every couple of minutes by another broken glass.

Finally, after ten minutes or so of sitting quietly, and finally hearing a lull in catastrophe, she found her voice again. She kept it calm and even, “Draco, I just want you to know I’m here. When you’re ready to talk, I’m here to listen.”

There was silence and for a moment she worried that maybe she should have just gone back in as soon as she came back.

“I know everything you lost today is devastating, but I’m not going to leave you here alone to deal with it. And whatever the purple potion was… I’m here to try and understand.“

More silence.

“I care about you, Draco. I understand the setback this must feel like, but you have a whole team ready to help you rebuild and we’ll get it back to normal before you know it.”

She heard a shuffle of feet inside the lab before the weight of a body slouched to the ground on the other side of the wall.

“I’m in this with you. And I’m not going anywhere. No matter what you’ve got in that mystery jar.”

The handle turned and the door creaked open. Taking it as an invitation, she stood, pushing it open to see Draco sitting against the cabinets as she had been against the wall, face streaked with dry tears and a look of hopelessness on his features, wand in his hand. She walked in and sat next to him, bringing her knees up to her chest and hugging them to her. She still wasn’t sure what to expect from him, but he’d at least let her in, and that was a good step.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's Day! Sorry for the wait, but I hope you enjoyed this chapter!! Hoping to have the next to you on Friday! 
> 
> Come find me on Tumblr - GinnyFix21


	25. Rebuilding

“Do you want to tell me what’s going through your mind?” Hermione asked softly, looking over from her seat on the floor beside him.

He lifted his head from the hole his stare had burned in the floor and moved his gaze to the wall across the room for a few more seconds before he spoke, “I just feel defeated. No matter what I do, there’s always something pushing me back towards the darkness.”

She reached a hand over, resting it lightly on his arm, “You’ve just got to pick back up and show them they can’t keep you down. Don’t let anyone knock you off your path.”

“I’m sorry I snapped at you,” he said, eyes closing for a moment, holding back the emotion behind them, “I wish I could take that back. I’ll never let it happen again.”

“It’s — I get it. I know what this means to you,” there was the apology; immediate and sincere. And as much as she needed it, she knew it also wasn’t her focus right now, “Can I ask what caused that reaction towards me?” She tried to say it conversationally. She’d noticed a distinct change in his reaction when she’d realized what he was missing and thought perhaps this was the best way to ask the question.

“Because I thought out of anyone in the world, you would have more faith in me than to think I’m brewing illegal potions,” he said, finally looking over at her, “It hurt that you jumped to that conclusion after I’d told you I put that life of bad decisions behind me. I’ve worked hard to get where I am and I would never go back to that; and I would certainly never put you in a position of having to deal with the possibility of me relapsing. Just another case of feeling like I’ve put in all this effort and time and purpose to just be the same person in your eyes, you know,” he turned away again, “You’re someone I want to see the best in me but you still see me for my past, deep down. I understand why, but it… hurts. Obviously that mixed with my anger towards everything I lost and I... I spiraled.”

She felt her chest tighten, “I’m — I’m sorry. I just felt like you were hiding what it was and it was the only thing I could think of that you wouldn’t want to tell me about,” when he didn’t offer an immediate response, she pushed again, “What _is_ it, Draco? If you don’t want me coming up with my own worst case scenario conclusions, just be honest with me.”

He sighed — more defeat — and leaned his head back again, “It’s another developmental potion. It’s just… personal. I didn’t want to tell anyone I was even attempting it unless I got it to work. And it sort of seems like it would have based on my preliminary testing of the batch… it only needed another week or so to strengthen and I would have been able to test it fully on myself. Now it’ll take another full day of brewing and two months of waiting. I felt like I was so close… I should have just told you when you first asked and it would have stayed safely in the locked cabinet. It’s my own fault.”

“What’s the potion for?”

“Can we wait on this conversation?” He asked, sounding tired, “I really do want to know that it works before I tell anyone about it. I don’t want to jinx it. I’ve put in so much research time for this potion; years of it. And I finally thought I’d done it.”

She nodded, not wanting to push him further right now, “I hope you know that I do see the best in you,” she said quietly, “But in seeing the best in you, I still see and accept your past. I need to, in order to understand you better; what you need, what you want. Seeing your past also means seeing the strides you’ve made in growing and learning from it. I don’t just want to pretend the old you never existed because it’s part of what makes you the amazing man you are now. It’s what gives you drive, it’s what makes you raw and real; cognizant and introspective. You don’t become what you are today without your past struggles, and I know that. I am sorry to have jumped to conclusions, but all I could think in the moment was that I wanted to help and I wanted to be there for you because I believe in you. If it was the other kind of potions… I just wanted you to know you weren’t alone. But I’m sorry for doubting you.”

He reached up and grabbed her hand that was still resting on his arm, “It’s not undeserved. I just have to keep pushing forward, like you’ve said, so my achievements can start to overshadow my past,” he gave her a crooked smile that didn’t meet his eyes that had been drained of emotion, likely a combination of exhaustion from his initial reaction, as well as a conscious effort on his part to push down the anger and pain, if she had to guess.

She returned the smile reassuringly, “We should send an owl to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.”

“I know,” he said without moving, still trying to let his despair settle before he let out a long breath and nodded, standing before holding out his hand to her.

As she took it to stand herself, she pulled him in, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck in what she hoped was a comforting gesture.

Without hesitating, he wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in the crook of her neck, letting her embrace calm him as they stood there together. Her fingers were twirling lightly through the ends of his hair on the back of his neck in the most soothing way, and there was something about the moment that was breaking through the walls he’d put up as his eyes stung again. Someone had come into his private lab over the weekend and rifled through his personal things; his work; his life’s achievements. It was violating and discouraging and another reminder of the easy life he’d never have. But here was Hermione, standing by his side even after he’d lost his temper. She’d stayed, she’d talked through it with him and her belief in him hadn’t wavered even with another setback. 

Finally, Hermione pulled back, arms still loosely around his neck, “Are you ready?”

He nodded again, searching her eyes for the confidence he was lacking before she gave him a small smile and leaned up with a soft kiss.

“I thought the lab was a no-play zone,” he said quietly with a small smile of his own and keeping her pressed against him as his body warmed.

“Special circumstances,” she whispered back before kissing him again. It was sweet and caring, and providing the reassurance he needed.

“Thank you for staying,” he said when she pulled back again, “I wouldn’t have blamed you for leaving me here after how I reacted.”

“I care about you, Draco,” she said sincerely, “I have no intention of giving up on you when things get tough because I know there will be unavoidable times when they are. I’m just in the early stages of figuring out what you want, or need, in those situations and what I can do.”

“Just being here is more than I could ask.”

She leaned in for one more lingering kiss before she stepped back and grabbed his hand, “Let’s find some parchment.”

He followed her out of the lab and over to his desk where he grabbed a spare bit of parchment and scrawled a message to the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He’d fetched his office owl, Ember, and sent him off before he’d returned to the office where they sat to wait, Hermione already starting a list of the vials she could remember from the cabinet that they’d need to start brewing again to replace in the coming weeks. Draco took out his calendar to begin planning, making the decision to cancel all of his meetings for Monday in order to re-do the purple potion first thing. With everything that had happened, he was at least sure no one would pry into what he was specifically working on since he had so much to replenish.

Half an hour later, they heard the elevator ding in the distance and they made their way back down the hall to meet the detectives.

“Mr. Malfoy?” A burly man with speckled grey hair and prominent matching facial hair held out his hand as he reached them.

“Just Draco,” he shook the outstretched hand firmly with a gentleman’s nod.

“Draco, then,” he nodded back at him, “I’m Boris Podge, detective with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.” 

“Thank you for coming down, Detective Podge.”

The detective turned to Hermione with his hand out, “Ms. Granger, didn’t know you’d be here too.”

“I’ve been overseeing Draco’s brewing progress in the lab over the last few months,” she said generally as she shook his hand as well, realizing she’d need to come up with a more solid backstory for her attendance.

“Always good to see you,” he turned back to Draco, “I’m sorry to hear you’ve had some trouble today. We’ve got one more from our department as well as an Auror on the way.”

“We can wait for them here. The only room that seems to have been pried through is in the back.”

Boris nodded, taking out a small notebook and a quill and charming them to hover in the air, “So can you give me a quick recap of what you witnessed when you came into your office?”

“Well best to start before that. I received a message upon arriving home from a weekend away,” he pulled the folded parchment out of his pocket and handed it to Boris, who scanned it as Draco continued talking, “I surmised what must have happened and before I could think to owl your department, I—” he side-eyed Hermione mid-sentence as he acknowledged the need to explain her presence, “—owled Ms. Granger, since she’s been so involved with our developments. Asked her to meet me here so we could assess the damage together. I’d hoped it had just been a message to get me riled up.”

“We both hoped that,” Hermione said with a sad look, “But in line with my duties to report on progress and stay involved with the projects at Draconis Laboratories, I thought it would be good for me to understand what kind of financial and time loss we’d be looking at if it wasn’t just a threat. Which of course, we know now that it wasn’t.”

“So you met outside before coming into the building? You entered together?”

“Correct,” Draco nodded, feeling like they’d appropriately tweaked the story to get to a point of consistency going forward, “I checked each of the doors upon entering our floor of the building, noting they were all still locked with the spells I put on them every night — I use a different variation on the locking charm for each one as an extra layer of protection,” Boris crossed his arms as he listened, looking impressed with the security precaution as the quill scribbled away on the notepad, “The only door that had been unlocked was my office, in the back. My main office was turned inside out and the small brewing lab off of my office was all but destroyed with the exception of my locked cabinet in the corner that contains our proprietary documents — permits, licenses, all of my written mixtures and instructions, and our most expensive and rare testing kits. I have what everyone has always called an absurd level of locks and charms on that cabinet to keep it safe. Seems it paid off. But everything else was overturned just like my office — books, potion vials, ingredient jars, all of it.”

“Can you think of anyone that would want to do this to you or your company?”

Draco’s lip quirked almost unnoticeably for a brief second, “Unfortunately there are many people who would like to see myself or my company fail. I’m sure you’re aware I’m an ex-Death Eater. So I wouldn’t even know where to begin on giving you a list of potential enemies.”

“I’m not here to judge your past, Mr. — Draco,” Boris waved a hand, “The Wizengamot made their decision and I hold their processes in the highest regards. Could you start putting together a list for us, however? Even if it’s long, it’ll be somewhere to start.”

The elevator dinged again and Boris turned as the three of them looked towards the front of the reception area.

“Harry?” Hermione did a double take.

“Pansy?” Draco tilted his head.

“Got the owl when I was at Pansy’s,” Harry said with a concerned look as they walked quickly over, “Couldn't quite hide where I was off to.”

“What’s going on, Draco?” Pansy asked seriously.

Behind Harry and Pansy was a younger woman who introduced herself as Olivia Hestible, another detective with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

They each shook her hand before Draco looked back at Pansy, “Someone broke in. The only room they got to was mine. But it’s a right mess.”

Boris handed Harry the parchment Draco had given him, which he, Olivia and Pansy read over quietly for a moment.

“Well lead the way,” Pansy gestured as she lifted her eyes back to the group, a clear urgency in her voice.

Draco walked the group back to his office, stepping in as they all filed in behind him, taking in the disaster of papers and office supplies. Pansy didn’t stop to observe, however, as she continued on to the back of the room, Draco making sure everyone had started busying themselves before he followed her, joining her as she pushed the door to the lab open, “Oh Draco…”

He looked in from behind her, the distress of it all hitting him again, “It’s all my work, Pansy,” he said quietly, his jaw locked. She was someone who understood how much it all meant to him and the wheels it would start turning in his head. She knew the feelings of inadequacy he battled every day, pushing them down to focus on his life’s goal to get these potions out and into the hands of people they could help. It didn’t take away the pain or the guilt that he held, but all of this work was part of his way of fixing something that felt broken inside him.

She reached back and grabbed his hand, squeezing it tightly in hers as she scanned the room, her eyes watering in a way that seemed highly uncharacteristic to Hermione, who stayed back with the others, letting them have a moment to mourn the loss of time and energy and progress together before it was taken away by the niceties that now had to be observed.

“So what are _you_ doing here?” Harry asked inconspicuously, drawing her attention as he flipped through some of the files that were scattered on the floor by Draco’s desk.

“He’d asked me to meet him at the lab when he got an owl that someone had broken in,” she kneeled down to sift through papers with him to keep their conversation private.

“Interesting that he went to you to send an owl before the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.”

“I think he just didn’t want to face this alone,” she said, knowing after what she’d witnessed, it was good she’d been here with him even if she already _had_ been.

“Speaks volumes to your evolving friendship that he messaged you over Pansy or Blaise,” Harry commented as she heaved a sigh of annoyance at the implication, “I just meant I think it’s really nice to see,” he clarified, “I’m glad the two of you are getting along so well after all of your hesitations in the beginning. And to be able to support him during something like this, it’s clear he trusts you and that you cared enough to come.”

“I do care,” she said with conviction, knowing that was at least one thing she could be honest about, “I know what it means for him to have this happen and it’s a devastation he shouldn't have to deal with alone. He’s a good man who can’t seem to catch a break.”

“Yes, I think so too,” Harry gave her a crooked smile before he looked back down at a piece of parchment in his hands, “Has he mentioned getting these threats before? It looks like there’s another one here.”

“He told me about another he had at his house, but he said the handwriting was different.”

Harry handed her the parchment from the floor, “Did he show it to you? Does this look the same, at first glance it doesn’t look similar to the one he gave us from today.”

She scanned the parchment; it did look quite like the second message he’d showed her but she didn’t know if he’d brought that one with him, and if he didn’t, she didn’t have much of an explanation of how she’d know what it looked like, “Let’s show it to Draco, he’d know better.”

As they stood, however, Boris beat them to the punch.

“Draco,” he called as Draco blinked a few times, still in the doorway of the lab, shaking his head slightly as he remembered the group of people there with them.

He squeezed Pansy’s hand back before he let go, returning to the others to give what details he could and start facing this thing head on. The sooner they had what they needed, the sooner they could get back and start investigating, and the sooner he and his team could start rebuilding.

Harry had shown Draco the parchment and Draco had confirmed that it looked similar to the one he’d left at his home and agreed to bring it into the Auror Department first thing in the morning for them to begin analyzing.

O-o-o-o-o-o-o

He’d stopped by the Ministry early Monday morning to drop off the letters from his anonymous threatener before he’d slipped into Draconis Laboratories before anyone else was in. He’d gone through his brewing steps on the purple potion, leaving himself just enough time before his company-wide meeting at precisely nine o’clock to inform his employees of what had happened. Each team was to ensure nothing else was missing from their departments and to report back to Theo. In the meantime he’d asked them all for some patience while he worked on replenishing his own stocks, giving Adrien the list of ingredients he’d need provided to him over the next couple of weeks, which he and Hermione had put together the evening prior. He’d then returned to his office, shutting the door and continuing his intermittent stirring, as well as outlining his to-do lists in the down time over the next eight hours. At the end of the day, it was finally completed. He knew it would need to sit again for two months, but at least it was done. And at least he could put it back into his locked cabinet without worrying about a repeat offense. 

As he corked the jar, he heard a knock at his office door. He took his time to lock and re-charm his cabinet before walking back into his office to answer it.

“Adrien,” he slipped his hand into his pocket, “I was just finishing up, do you need something?”

“I know you are busy but I would like to talk, if you have a few minutes.”

“Of course,” Draco ushered him in, closing the door behind them and glad he’d finished his potion before the interruption.

He noticed the apprehension on Adrien’s face before he even began talking and had an inkling he knew why he’d come, though he hoped he was wrong.

“Draco, I do not know the easiest way for me to say this…” he started.

And Draco knew immediately that he was not wrong.

“It is with the deepest regret that I believe it is in my best interest to leave the company and return to Russia.”

Draco let a long breath out of his nose as he considered Adrien, “There’s nothing I can say to change your mind, is there?”

“You and I both know all you would have to do is ask for me to stay, but I do hope you understand.”

“I do,” Draco said quietly, sitting back in his chair, “I’m sorry to have put you in this position.”

“I knew the possibilities, when I accepted the offer to join you, Draco. But I cannot be brought back into the implications of the Dark Arts. Not after…” his voice faltered as though he wasn't sure how to finish the sentence, but knowing Draco would understand.

“After everything that happened. I know. I know it’s a trigger for you and I wouldn't ask you to stay knowing you’d be uncomfortable. You’ve done more than enough for me over the last five years and I just wish my presence at this company wasn’t the reason these things were happening, but I’m not naïve enough to think it hasn’t been the cause of multiple issues we’ve faced over the years, and specifically this year: The Gurdyroot seeds, the anonymous tip of fraudulent records, the break in...” he trailed off, frustrated all over again with the life he’d paved for himself, “I’ve put everyone in a bad position and all I can do is apologize knowing that it’s for the right reasons if we can get through it all.”

“And you know how much I wanted to be on this journey with you,” Adrien said with more emotion than his guarded voice usually held. 

“Of course. I couldn't have gotten here without you, but I respect your decision to leave.”

“I will stay until you have a replacement,” Adrien told him definitively, “But I would like to be moving on sooner rather than later.”

“I’ll keep you updated on candidates and I won’t ask you to stay longer than you have to.”

Adrien nodded, standing solemnly, “I am very sorry about this, Draco. I wish you nothing but the best.”

Draco nodded back, his mind reeling now on the subject of replacing Adrien before he registered that he was halfway to the door, “Adrien,” he called as he turned back with his hand on the doorknob.

“Yes?”

“Thank you, truly. I hope you know the gratitude I have for your contribution here.”

“I do,” he said honestly.

The men nodded to each other once more before Adrien took his leave. Draco leaned his head on the back of his chair, hands clasped together and eyes closing as he took a few grounding breaths before he grabbed his wand from his desk, and muttered a _Muffliato_ charm at his door before his eyes opened to stare at the ceiling another moment.

“FUCK,” the word that had been racing through his brain finally made its way into the air, “Fucking _fuck_.”

He stood quite suddenly and grabbed a small ceramic globe that he’d just repaired that morning from his desk, chucking it across the room as it smashed against the wall.

“Fuck.”

He grabbed whatever he could get his hands on next; a plaque from his apprenticeship, and sent it to join the globe, the sound of the crashing glass almost comforting in the piercing silence that was only broken up by his internal thoughts. He grabbed the next item from his desk, a small glass figurine of the Eiffel Tower; a trinket he'd brought back from their trip, hardly big enough for anyone to notice it and hidden behind his plaque that morning; something only he could see as a reminder of the women that had taken over a substantial space in his life that had been empty prior. Not just empty, in fact, desolate. She’d taken the space where he kept most of his dark, self-loathing thoughts that he’d never be more than the Death Eater of old. She shined a light into the hole he’d dug in that space and it didn’t ache and torment him like it used to because he felt like someone was seeing in him what he wished he could actually be. She was filling that void of self-love that he’d lost after the war; That he’d possibly never had to begin with.

He set the figurine back down and fell back into his chair with an aggravated sigh. He wasn’t going to chuck that at a wall. And he knew what Hermione would say if she were there: _Keep pushing forward_. 

Was he crushed to be losing Adrien? His friend and confidant? His professional voice of reason and one of the first people he’d connected with in his broken state after the war? He absolutely was. But he couldn’t let it take him over the edge along with everything else going on. He fully understood Adrien’s wishes. He was triggered by implications to the Dark Arts; he’d lost his father to it. He’d lost his innocence to it. He’d been dragged through the mud similar to Draco all from the implication of being associated with it. And Draco had known, well before Adrien had stepped into his office, that he couldn't go through it again. The gossip; the stares; the unsubstantiated speculation — once was enough.

Draco understood, while not quite falling victim to the same sentiments on it. Of course he didn’t like the gossip, of course it would affect him, but he knew that this line was the end game and whatever he had to deal with in the process of getting it out into the world was going to have to be bearable. He didn't usually let these setbacks pull the darkness out of him like they were now, but it just seemed to be one thing after another lately and he felt worn. _Keep pushing_ _forward_ , her voice invaded his thoughts again and he took another deep breath as he stared across the room at the mess of porcelain and glass. 

He grabbed his wand from the table, “ _Reparo_ ,” he muttered as the globe in the corner pieced itself back together before he turned his wand and repeated the spell on the plaque, “ _Accio_ ,” he called as the items flew back to him, catching each in turn and replacing them on the desk near his figurine of the Eiffel Tower.

He closed his eyes for another moment, _Keep pushing forward_. His own voice this time; a decision solidified. When he opened his eyes again, he shook his head to clear the remaining doubts, opening up his drawer and grabbing a piece of parchment, quill already in hand and ready to get back to work.

O-o-o-o-o-o-o

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this chapter and the AWESOME fanart I commissioned my wonderful friend (@ghosthaus_illustrations on IG) to draw for me for this scene!! I love how it came out and the catastrophe it captured! 
> 
> As a fun aside, I'm in the process of teaching myself how to draw so I'm hoping to add some more artwork along the way when a scene calls to me (although please don't expect anything as impressive as what I've had commissioned for the story so far because I'm learning from the ground up - stick figures to fanart - I just thought it would be a little fun added experience)! I just finished my first attempt at a fanfic scene and I was pleasantly surprised at how not terrible it was! Unfortunately, it's for a one-shot (two-three-four-shot? who knows) I'm also working on. More details to come, it's a fun one!
> 
> As always, thank you so much for reading, I'd love to hear your thoughts on the story so far if you've got a minute! 
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr @ginnyfix21!


	26. Herbology

“Are you ready, Draco?” Hermione asked, standing by the door in her jacket and pulling on her gloves to fight the frigid air as February dawned.

“Almost, almost,” he called back as he finished buttoning his shirt before returning to his very large closet for a crisp blazer.

He finally emerged from the bedroom, running his fingers smoothly through his hair as Hermione grabbed his jacket from the coat hanger and held it open for him to slip on.

“We’re almost late,” she chided him.

“Are you a witch or not? We’ll just apparate.”

“Draco, it’s a five minute walk.”

“And you just told me we’re almost late, pick your poison.”

“Fine,” she sighed as he turned around, straightening the collar of his jacket as she pulled the end of her scarf through its loop.

“You look delectable all bundled up,” he said as he took a moment to look at her, wrapped in a winter coat with a matching scarf and knit hat, “Makes me think being late wouldn’t be so bad to get you out of all of that...”

She gave him a look and his eyes twinkled mischievously at her, “It’s time to go,” she said, leaning up for a peck on his lips.

He caught her around the waist, though, and held her there. He could feel her hesitate for a brief moment, clearly feeling it was time to be walking out the door, but she relaxed into him with a contented sigh, allowing him to deepen their kiss as her arms snaked around his back. His lips brushed hers a few more times before he pulled back, “You’re considering it now, aren’t you? We could be… a little late.”

Her eyes opened lazily, but they were twinkling back at him this time, “We’re not going to be late. I just figured if we’re apparating, I had a minute to give into you. And now that minute has passed,” she placed one more chaste kiss on his lips before she stepped back, “Let’s go.”

“ _Minx_ ,” he muttered, following her out the door as they descended the stairs, “You go first and I’ll wait a minute and follow you so we don’t show up together.”

She nodded, turning on the spot and disapparating. She reappeared in front of The Hungry Hippogriff, pulling open the door and getting herself inside from the cold. She spotted their dinner companions immediately as she smiled and waved, weaving through the tables to the back of the establishment.

“Hermione, Great to see you again so soon,” Neville beamed at her as she hugged him hello.

“So glad you could make it,” Hermione said warmly before turning to Luna and embracing her blond friend.

“What a happy mid-week surprise.”

As they sat, the door jingled again and Draco walked in, shedding his coat and placing it on the coat hook by the door as he scanned the restaurant, finding them near the back and making his way through the crowd.

“Longbottom,” he said with a nod and a cordial grin as Neville stood to shake his hand, “And, Lovegood,” Draco turned with his hand still out but she engulfed him in what could only be described as an all-encompassing bear hug, “Ah, yes, hello.”

“Hello Draco, it’s good to see you,” she said airily as she took her seat again, Draco rounding the table to take his seat next to Hermione, who was suppressing a grin of her own.

“Evening, Granger.”

“Always a pleasure.”

“How have you been, Draco?” Neville asked as they settled in from their coy game.

“Things have been… hectic,” Draco said, not one to beat around the bush, “I’m sure you saw the Prophet last Monday morning about the break in at our labs.”

“I did, I’m sorry to hear. Hopefully nothing irreplaceable was destroyed.”

“It’ll take time, but we’ll be alright,” Draco said with a reassuring side eye glance from Hermione.

“Glad to hear that, I’m sure it was devastating all the same.”

“It certainly wasn’t ideal,” Draco responded dryly.

“But Draco’s already done some great work to start rebuilding and replenishing just in the last week.”

“With Hermione’s help, of course. We were both in the lab all weekend working on a few different brews.”

“I sense… diligords,” Luna said with intrigue.

“Diligords…” Draco started but Hermione’s foot kicked his inconspicuously under the table before he could ask.

“How have you been, Luna? Everything well at the Quibbler?” Hermione remembered from their Christmas conversation that diligords were Luna’s implication of attraction or sexual tension or something like that and they certainly didn't need to be addressing any of those possibilities over dinner. She was just here to facilitate conversation between Neville and Draco. They’d figured it was the best way for the conversation to be casual and productive to gauge interest and compatibility versus starting out with a hard sell, or interviews.

The waitress interrupted their conversation with drink orders before they were left on their own again.

“I’ve been very well,” Luna picked up their conversation, “The Quibbler is flying off the shelves lately. Winter is always our most lucrative time; so many people sitting at home away from the cold reading magazines by the fire.”

Hermione nodded at the logical assumption, “Yes, I can see that. That’s wonderful everything is going well.”

“Neville and I are going on holiday to Transylvania next week, as well,” she mentioned, “There’s a story on a vampire-lead rock band that I absolutely have to include in our next issue.”

Draco couldn't help the chuckle that escaped. Lovegood was a weird one, but she was quite amusing, “I think I’d read that article.”

“So, Draco, what brings us out here tonight? Happy to do it, of course, but it seemed more pressing than the casual get together to discuss the larger world of Herbology that we’d talked about at Christmas.”

“It is,” Draco nodded, glad they could get down to business as this was still new territory they were treading.

Though before he could elaborate, the waitress returned with their drinks hovering around the table to them, taking their dinner order before she disappeared again.

Draco cleared his throat a little before returning to the matter at hand, “To be blunt, Longbottom, my VP of Herbology will be leaving the company and I’ll have a spot to fill. Hermione had mentioned your interest in hearing about roles outside of Hogwarts and I thought there was a conversation to be had about your experience and what you’re looking for in your next role. And of course I can give you some background on what we do and, specifically what Adrien does in his day to day. Nothing absolute, of course, but I wanted to start my search by talking to you before I consider opening the position on a broader scale, see if we both think it’s a good fit.”

“That was… very considerate,” Neville said, a bit taken aback, “Can I ask why your current VP is leaving?”

Draco had been prepared for the question and he nodded, “The short story is because of the break-in. We have reason to believe it was caused by someone associated with the Death Eaters, or affronted by my past affiliation with them, though likely the former. Adrien is the son of Igor Karkaroff. We were roommates at Durmstrang, where I finished my seventh year of schooling. He’s a good friend of mine, but he tries very hard to keep himself out of any conversation that might involve the Dark Arts or his past association to it. Because in reality he had none. It was all just speculation surrounding him his whole life. I understand his position and accepted his resignation without question. Though it’s an important role at the company so filling it is paramount to operations running smoothly. Adrien will be staying as long as necessary to get our new VP up to speed and then will be returning to his quiet life in Russia.”

“You’re not considering stopping operations because of the break ins or anything, right?”

“Absolutely not. Like I said, I understand Adrien’s decision, but there’s nothing that could happen that would stop me from finishing what I started. They can threaten me as much as they’d like but I’ve learned my lesson and we’ve increased our security and put in more advanced locking charms. I’m certainly not going to tell you it isn’t a job without inherent risk, however. I think recent events showed us all that someone wants to put an end to what we’re doing.”

“Right, I can see that,” Neville said, “Sounds like you almost expect another attempt?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised.” Draco was doing his best to be as honest as he could about the situation, “Full disclosure, I’ve received threats before. Three in total now over the last year. Someone absolutely has it out for my company.”

Neville nodded, taking in the information and obviously deep in thought before he finally looked back at Draco, “Well a little inherent risk never stopped a Gryffindor, did it? Hermione’s told me about some of the potions you’ve been working on and I think it’s really wonderful what you’re trying to do for the Wizarding world. It’s the kind of risk worth taking and I’d be interested in hearing more.”

“Alright,” Draco nodded with a grin, as their waitress returned with their dinners.

Draco proceeded to go into detail about Adrien’s day to day activities as Hermione chimed in with what she had gathered from her weekly visits with Adrien, Neville asking questions here and there while Luna asked her own questions that she assumed Neville would want to know but wouldn’t ask.

With a good idea of the job, Neville went into his own background on the work he’d been doing at Hogwarts and, specifically, his work with Horace in the potion’s classroom. Coming into the meeting, Draco had been unsure what to expect, knowing it could go in any numbers of different directions — Nevillle could easily have not being interested or ready to leave his current job; their conversation could have been uncomfortable, laced with the tension of their past; Neville’s experience could have not being up to par. But Draco had to admit, as he set his galleons on the table, insisting that this meeting more than counted as a work expense, that it had gone well in all the right ways and as crazy as everything that had happened in the last few months had been, he could see Neville’s presence at the company being an asset.

“Well, thank you for coming out tonight,” Draco said as they all stood, “I want to give you some time to sleep on everything we’ve talked about, but if you’d be interested, we’d like to have you in for a meeting with the team, and specifically with Adrien. And we can talk about moving forward.”

“I don’t imagine my answer will change after sleeping on it, but I think this feels like the right opportunity. McGonagall did tell me that if anything else ever came up they’d be able to cover my classes and such through the school year — I think she’s known for a while that it was time for me to move on to bigger things.”

Draco held out his hand and Neville took it with a grin, “Send me an owl at the end of the week to confirm that and we can plan to have you in Monday to meet everyone.”

“Thanks for the consideration,” Neville said sincerely, “It speaks volumes that you’re able to put aside the past to even offer me the opportunity for a position like this.”

“It speaks louder volumes that you’d want to consider it at all.”

The group donned their coats and walked outside, but before they had a chance to say their goodbyes, Hermione caught Neville gently by the arm, “Neville could I talk to you privately for a moment before you go?” 

“Of course,” he followed her over to the side of the building as Draco and Luna were left near the door.

“So… Lovegood—” Draco started, trying to fill the silence.

“You two are very good at hiding your feelings,” Luna said thoughtfully.

“W-what?” Draco did a double take at the girl.

“I told you I sensed Diligords,” she laughed airily, “But it doesn’t take diligords to see the sexual tension between you and Hermione.”

“That’s — that’s completely untrue.”

“Oh, maybe I just ruined a moment of self-realization that you haven’t had yet,” Luna cocked her head at him, “My apologies, Draco, I’ll let you figure it out on your own time.”

“I assure you, Lovegood, there’s nothing going on—”

But Luna just laughed again, “You don’t have to acknowledge it right now, really. I think it’s special to recognize the feelings for yourself. There just seems to be such a strong connection there I thought for sure you must have already,” she smiled at him, “Put it from your mind until it’s ready to show you.”

Before he had the opportunity to respond, Hermione and Neville had returned.

“Ready to head home, Luna?”

“Yes, I have a dirigible plum pie waiting to be popped in the oven,” Luna engulfed Draco in another uncomfortable hug as Hermione hugged Neville, turning to Luna once she’d released Draco for a hug goodbye before the two disapparated.

“That went well,” Hermione smiled over at him once they were alone again.

“Lovegood puts me off sometimes,” Draco said offhandedly.

Hermione laughed, “That’s just Luna.”

“What were you talking to Neville about?”

“I’ll let you know when he gets back to me with his answer,” she gave him a small smile, “It’s personal so I’ll only share it with you if he gives me the green light.”

“Alright,” Draco nodded without another question on it, turning as they both began walking back to his place, discussing how the dinner had gone and what kinds of meetings they should set up for the following week.

“Would you like a post dinner drink?” Draco asked as he hung up their coats at the door.

She thought for a moment before giving in, “Yes, I’ll have one but I can’t stay long. I’ve got a meeting with Kingsley and some of the foreign ministers first thing tomorrow. I’m all prepped for it, but I’ll want a good night’s rest to be fresh.”

“Shacklebolt is including you in foreign policy meetings?” Draco raised a brow at her as they passed into the kitchen and he picked thoughtfully through his wine cabinet.

“Yes, he’s just started doing that the last few months. I think I bought him a little leeway with the French Minister at our holiday party and he’s been very keen to bring me into more of that side of the job since then.”

“Jacque?” Draco uncorked a vintage Syrah and poured it slowly into the decanter on the counter.

“Yes, nice man.”

“A little scatter-brained if you ask me,” he grabbed down two wine glasses that he handed Hermione before picking up the decanter as they returned to the living room, setting everything on the coffee table for now.

“He’s very bright, just not very sound in his decisions; wishy-washy and easy to sway.”

Draco chuckled, “Good way to describe him. I’ve met him a few times at galas.”

“Of course you have,” she leaned back on the couch, tucking her legs underneath her as he rested a hand on her thigh, his finger tracing circles around the fabric below.

“You know he actually knocked over a priceless vase of mother’s at the manor once during a New Year's Eve gala, years ago, much before he was Minister.”

“I’ll have to tuck that information away in case I ever need to bargain with him.”

“Very Slytherin thing to do,” he caught the sparkle in her eye and grinned, taking her in, “Do you remember when I said that there might be some fun parts to a secret relationship?” his voice was noticeably lower than a moment ago as his eyes dropped to her lips.

“I recall a brief conversation,” she replied smartly, his change in tone making butterflies flutter in her stomach.

“I’m feeling the fun part of it tonight. Going to dinner, keeping my hands to myself and my focus on work. It’s truly making me enjoy every second of having my hands back on you now that we’re home and behind closed doors.”

She felt another warm tingle as the words _we’re home_ rolled off his tongue so casually.

His free hand was wrapping a stray curl around it as she melted in front of him, trying her best to keep cool on the outside, although she’d let her own voice take on a more sultry note, “Seems like you think you’re getting somewhere tonight.”

His eyes sparked with a fire reserved only for her, “I dare you to tell me I’m not,” he watched as her words stuck in her throat and she swallowed as she searched for another retort, but none came before he leaned in for a long kiss. It was soft, but leading and he pulled back an inch to catch her gaze again as her breath ghosted his lips. 

“I thought we had wine to drink,” Hermione said quietly, resolving to keep up her game as long as she could, though her hand was already moving slowly up his arm, betraying her.

“It needs some time to air,” his lip pulled up in a way that made a shiver run down her spine and he leaned back in for another lingering kiss, his tongue dipping almost inconspicuously in to brush hers before their lips met again. He kissed the corner of her lips, slowly making his way to her jaw and then the sensitive skin on her neck as she sighed, leaning slightly to the side, admitting without words that she’d given up the ploy. Her hands had made their way into his hair, the platinum locks threading through her fingers. He had an uncanny ability to siphon every thought from her mind and replace it with nothing but the sound of his lips against her skin and the small noises that escaped his throat here and there. There was nothing else in these moments; no obligations; no work commitments slipping in; no anxiety over an off-limits relationship.

The warm sensation of his hand moving up her thigh took over her consciousness as a heavier sigh fell. His lips were right below her ear and her hands had found their way under his collar. Before she could think any more on it, her shoulders were being gently ushered back as Draco floated over her on the couch, his lips returning to hers with a hunger he’d held back earlier. She let out a soft moan as his tongue brushed hers more prominently this time before her bottom lip was pulled lightly between his. As her breath came quicker from her lips between kisses, she found herself unbuttoning his shirt before she made her way to his belt.

Draco had propped himself on one hand as he lost the other in her hair. He felt her pushing on the top of his trousers and his body heated against hers, “Tell me what you’d like,” he managed to get out evenly.

Their gaze met again after another long battle of tongues and she all but panted, “ _You_.”

“Well you’ve got me, Granger. Now what would you like to do with me?” his hand had removed itself from her hair to travel down her body, pausing at a patch of exposed skin on her waist where her shirt had bunched up.

Her eyes looked back and forth between his for a beat before she responded, “ _Everything_.”

He bit back a groan as his lips attached to hers again and he let her finish the task of pushing off his trousers before he helped her discard every item of clothing she was wearing between murmurs of the things he had in mind for their evening as she sighed out _yes_ ’s and let her hands roam whatever part of him she could reach in anticipation. 

She watched him with an almost needy look she couldn’t mask as he planted kisses up from her stomach, taking a detour at her breasts and then continuing until they had firmly returned to her lips as she felt him position himself further south. He slid into her slowly, her lips pulling from his as her head fell back, dipping further into the pillow beneath her to take in the sensation as her back arched into him from the cool leather that had conformed to her skin.

He watched as her eyes fluttered closed, pulling back just as slowly before pushing himself deeper as her chest heaved in a beautiful way below him. Her eyes fluttered open again to meet his and his own breath hitched at everything he saw in her gaze. A low groan finally emitted from his throat as he leaned down to kiss her again, his hips finding the perfect rhythm for them both as a chorus of sounds filled the air between them.

O-o-o-o-o-o-o

“You’d sleep just as well here,” Draco said in a relaxed tone, his face buried in the crook of her neck, her hair muffling his words.

“Mmm, I think we both know that’s not true,” she replied, eyes closed and fingers slipping lazily through his hair.

“I could make you a nice nourishing breakfast in the morning, fresh coffee…”

She laughed lightly, “That does sound nice.”

“Maybe a little more activity for stress relief before your big meeting…”

She laughed a little harder, “And _that_ is why I won’t get any sleep you _scoundrel_.”

“Oo, I like that word.”

Her hands fell from his hair, wrapping around his shoulders as she leaned her head on his, “But I like that you _want_ me to stay on a Tuesday night.”

He was silent for a moment before he lifted his head, hers pulling back as well to look at him, “Of course I want you to stay. Have I somehow given you the impression that this is casual?”

“Oh, no, I mean — well, it’s not like we’ve discussed what exactly this is. But no, I didn’t think it was… _casual_ … per se.”

He huffed, his features portraying something that resembled a mix of annoyance and amusement, “Well I thought it was pretty clear that we’re together. So I would assume, you know, that you’re my girlfriend. That is the case, isn’t it?”

She stared at him, blinking, “When was that determined?”

“When was it disputed?”

She laughed again and this time it felt almost inappropriate but he’d caught her quite off guard with that comment, “It’s something that needs to be established before it can be disputed, I’d say.”

“Why, are you seeing other people?” he leaned up on his arm, his tone clipped although he tried to make it sound nonchalant.

She was still looking at him like he had two heads, “Yes, Draco, I have three other boyfriends.”

“Well I guess at least you call _them_ boyfriends,” he was pushing off of her now, the annoyance overtaking the amusement as he grabbed for his boxers by his feet.

“I’m joking, obviously,” she grabbed his arm, not wanting to be the only naked person laying on the couch, “It’s just, Draco, this is something people talk about. You never asked me to be your girlfriend. That’s all. I’m clearly _not_ dating other people.”

“I’ve never asked _anyone_ to be my girlfriend,” he cocked his head at her, “It was always just implied over time. I didn’t realize I needed to present you with a formal invitation to accept the title.”

She bit back a grin, realizing that he was simply embarrassed that he’d assumed a step in their relationship that she’d pushed back on, “I’m going to need that formal invitation or else I’m afraid this can’t go any further.”

There was a lightness in her eyes that was endearing, as well as frustrating and he huffed again. This wasn’t a big deal. He just had to ask a simple question. He’d just never asked before. With Pansy, they’d just started spending more time together and snogging in hallways and eventually she’d started calling him her boyfriend around others. With Astoria, his one short-lived girlfriend after the war, it had been similar. They’d gone out on enough dates that eventually she’d started introducing him as her boyfriend and that had been that. But Hermione was different, wasn’t she. She was stubborn and structured. There were rules for certain things and she expected rules to be followed. One of the ridiculous things he loved about her.

 _Ahem,_ liked _about her_.

The corner of his mouth twitched as he fought a grin of his own, “Consider this your formal invitation.”

“To what?” she asked innocently.

“To be my girlfriend.”

“Hm, I’ll have to think about it,” she sighed and he pushed himself off the couch, stepping a bit haughtily back into his boxers as she laughed more freely, grabbing his hand again and dragging him back down onto her.

“I formally accept your invitation. It would be my honor to be your girlfriend, Draco. You make me feel like a very lucky witch.”

She kissed him firmly on the lips before he could respond, her hands roaming his chest as he relaxed over her, feeling like their footing was equalizing again with her answer. He pulled her against him as they stretched out along the couch once more.

“Now how about that wine?” She teased as Draco’s lip curled up.

She’d stayed a bit longer, taking in a few glasses of wine and enjoying the warmth of his embrace on a cold winter day, before she’d returned home to the beauty rest she’d promised herself that evening. As she crawled into bed, pulling the comforter tightly around her, she smiled, one sentence dancing through her head in different inflections. No matter how it repeated itself, however, she felt nothing but giddy, like a school girl might. _Draco Malfoy is my boyfriend._

She smiled into her pillow before a yawn stifled it the slightest bit and she sighed a very contented sigh.

_Draco Malfoy is my boyfriend._

O-o-o-o-o-o-o

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! So sorry this chapter was delayed - I emptied out my office over the weekend to transform the boring beige walls into beautiful light grey walls, and I hate trying to post chapters on my ipad so I hit pause until my computer was set back up. On the plus side, writing-wise I'm just about done with chapter 31 :) And chapter 29 will have self-drawn amateur faaaan art! So stay tuned. 
> 
> I've also got a fun one-shot (three-shot... it's a three-shot because I am incapable of brevity) in the edit phase with TWO pieces of self-drawn amateur fan art! That should be getting posted in the next week or so. (I'll leave the summary down below!) So I have been busy with fanfic stuff... just not with getting you this chapter. Sorry again. Hope you enjoyed!! Leave your thoughts if you've got a minute :)
> 
> Thanks for the reviews and kudos!!
> 
> Find me on Tumblr - @ginnyfix21
> 
> Upcoming Dramione THREE-Shot (you can subscribe to my stories if you're interested in knowing when it drops!):
> 
> Title: Available Room - Diagon Alley  
> Rating: E (I'm decently positive I crossed the M line with this one)  
> Summary: There was no way — no way — he could have predicted who was going to open the door to his inquiry about a posting for an available room in a flat located near Diagon Alley.
> 
> And likewise there was no way — absolutely no way — he could have predicted that mere months later he’d be waking up with said flatmate asleep in his bed. 
> 
> But alas, here he was; eyes blinking open, a mess of brown curls filling his vision, and emerald sheets tucked under his arm; an arm that was draped lazily around the waist of his morning companion who was breathing steadily, clearly still oblivious to their new predicament.


	27. An Unintended Date

“So Granger, you’ll remember how I mentioned Cristiano was attending a conference last week on some efficiency improvements for the Pepper Up Potion,” Pansy turned to her as they walked the rows of cauldrons in the brewing department.

“Yes, there are a couple of new adjustments that have been made to the standard potion, correct? It’ll affect the brew time?”

“Correct,” Pansy nodded, “A lab in Italy has been working on some developments in your over the counter potions and recently had their findings reviewed and mixtures approved by the Italian equivalent of the Healing Potions Administration. A trade out of the Bicorn Horn for Abraxan Hair. They have similar properties, you see, but Abraxan Hair is much more potent so we can use smaller portions, and it improves brew time by ninety minutes since Abraxan Hair doesn’t take as long to break down.”

“That’s wonderful news, an hour and a half for each brew adds up, I’m sure.” 

“It does. We’re currently in calculations of how it’ll affect our supply costs, as well as what we can brew with the extra free cauldron time. There are a few models we’re running right now.”

“And when will the English Ministry be approving the changes?”

“It’s in review with our HPA right now so we’re expecting it to go into effect within the month.”

Hermione jotted down some notes as they returned to the front of the room, “Great. Well this is an exciting development,” she looked back up with a smile, “Thank you as always for your time today, Pansy.”

“My pleasure,” Pansy put her hands in the pockets of her perfectly tailored navy slacks, considering Hermione as she packed her materials back into her bag to take her lunch break, “Why don’t you join me for lunch today, Granger. Maybe somewhere off premises?”

“Oh, um,” she thought for a moment about whether there was anything that needed her immediate attention, but she was in a good spot for the day so far, “Sure, Pansy, that sounds nice.”

“Wonderful, I’ll grab my cloak and meet you in the atrium,” without much of a backwards glance, she turned from Hermione and swept out of the room as Hermione grabbed her last few items and stowed them away before heading for Draco’s office to grab her own cloak.

Draco looked up as she entered, giving her a quick grin before his eyes moved back to the parchment in his hands, “Going for lunch?”

“Yes, Pansy invited me, so I guess we’re going together.”

He looked up at her again with a small amused huff, “Well isn’t that nice. What’s she want with you?”

“I guess we’ll both find out soon,” Hermione slipped her cloak on with a wave over her shoulder, “See you this afternoon.”

She met Pansy in the atrium and they took the elevator down to the street before starting their walk to the Leaky Cauldron a few blocks down the way for lunch in Diagon Alley. Pansy used the time to talk a little more about the different scenario models they were running for the extra brew time before they were settled into a cafe at the other end of the wizarding street.

“So Granger, I never got to hear about muggle Paris,” Pansy looked at her expectantly as their waiter walked away to fetch their drinks.

“Oh it was very nice,” Hermione clasped her hands on the table. She’d told the diluted version of her trip to Paris a few times now between Harry and Ron and some Ministry colleagues, “There are some really beautiful attractions on the muggle side of town — art museums, fine dining, sightseeing. It was just a weekend to disconnect. Until I came back to all of the news about the lab.”

“You know, Draco was out of town as well that weekend.”

Hermione nodded, “Spain, I think?”

Pansy hummed in acknowledgment, "Did he tell you anything about his trip?"

"Not much," Hermione said offhandedly. 

Pansy nodded, looking across the cafe thoughtfully.

"Is there a reason you're asking?"

"He just didn't tell me much either, curious what he got up to, is all.”

"Are you worried about him?”

"I just feel like he's keeping something from me and the trip to Spain... well, it didn't do much to ease my concerns. I figured of anyone, maybe he’d have told you if something was up, with all that time you two spend together,” Pansy seemed to be looking at her quite intently now, unsure how to voice her concerns while maintaining her cool demeanor.

“How has he been acting… differently?”

“I can always tell when he’s not being totally honest with me. He’s good at masking his emotions with most people, but around me he’s not as good at hiding it; tends to have this look on his face like there’s something he needs to say, but can’t. Almost looks like he’s teetering on his feet to lean forward and spill it. Sixth year, for example, it was constant. Just this look in his eyes every time we were talking like there was something unsaid he wished I’d pick up on,” she seemed sad thinking back on it now, “Outside of my intuition, he’s just seemed distracted, which is unlike him when we’re almost halfway through the funding period now. I’d have thought he’d be holed up in his lab late nights and weekends but instead he’s taking off for weekends in Spain and even leaving early some nights. Did you know on Tuesday he left the office at five? I’ve never seen him do that."

"Oh, Tuesday I can account for, actually,” Hermione perked up, glad she could offer something reassuring since the reasoning for his distraction and secrets was most likely due to their relationship, “Draco and I took Neville Longbottom to dinner. I’m sure you heard Adrien is leaving, and as he mentioned at Christmas, Neville has been looking for a job in Herbology with some great experience from Hogwarts so I accompanied them to facilitate the conversation. I think Draco is planning on holding a meeting this afternoon to let everyone know Neville will be coming in Monday to tour the facilities and meet with the team. He was just finalizing the itinerary for his morning here.”

“Longbottom? Interesting. I remember a mention that he was looking for something,” Pansy nodded but still looked concerned behind it.

“In general, I haven't noticed anything worrisome with Draco. He still seems very focused on his potions to me. And all he told me about Spain was some light sightseeing. Maybe he just needed the weekend to step away from the cauldron and reflect.”

She hummed again, putting on a forced smile, “I'm sure it’s nothing, then."

Hermione wished she could ease the girl’s worries but it just… wasn’t the time.

Their food arrived a few minutes later and Pansy pivoted the conversation, returning to her normal composure now that she’d gotten over the uncomfortableness of voicing her unease regarding Draco, “So there was something else I wanted to mention to you, while we’re out today. I have a friend — he’s a couple of years older and went to Beauxbatons — he’s visiting this weekend and I thought he may be someone fun to set you up with. He works at the French Ministry in their Financial Strategy department. Brainy guy, but sweet."

“Oh, set us up… like on a date?”

“Well you’re single and you’ve already turned down my attempt to set you up with Draco… for now,” she added with a wink, “But in the meantime, I thought it wouldn’t hurt to introduce you to Louis.”

“Oh, well that’s very considerate of you, but I’m not really looking to date right now. I’ll be working most of the weekend anyway.”

“That’s too bad, I already told Louis all about you. Maybe you could at least come to dinner with us Saturday evening? Harry and I were going to take him to Diagon Alley.”

“I really do need to be finishing some things up in the office—”

Pansy sighed, “Granger, Harry told me the other day that you two used to get lunch every Saturday and I feel badly that I’ve stolen his time so completely from you. Would you please do me the honor of joining us for dinner so I can feel like I’ve done one nice thing lately?”

Hermione opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, “It’s really quite alright,” she finally said. She and Harry _did_ used to get lunch every Saturday, but truth be told, she’d been just as busy spending her time with Draco as he had been spending his time with Pansy, but again, she couldn’t tell Pansy that and didn’t want to seem as though she didn’t appreciate the offer to spend some more time with her best friend, “But I guess I could join you for dinner. Maybe we could invite—”

“I’d still like to keep it small, so if you’ll join that will be lovely,” Pansy flashed her a smile, “Better quality time with just a few of us.”

“Oh, alright, yes, I guess that sounds nice.”

“Wonderful. Louis will be happy not to be a third wheel as well.”

Hermione had a queasy feeling settling in her stomach and couldn’t wait to get back to the lab to tell Draco what she’d just agreed to.

“Things seem to be going well with you and Harry,” Hermione turned the conversation again, not wanting to dwell on their impending accidental double date, “I see you’re wearing the earrings he gave you for Christmas.”

Pansy momentarily let her lips pull into a wide, giddy smile as she looked down at her salad to cut a piece of chicken before she schooled her features coolly again, “Things are quite perfect, yes.”

“Can I ask what it is about Harry? Draco mentioned once that your type was more directed towards… wizards in the public eye.”

Pansy gave a light laugh and raised her eyebrow playfully, “And who is more in the public eye than Harry Potter?”

“Yes but Harry, he doesn’t enjoy that stuff. Tries to stay out of the Prophet whenever he can.”

“Oh I know that, Granger,” Pansy laughed again, “Harry is truly the unsuspecting hero and I love him for it. He’s a little awkward and unsure, but funny and sweet. He makes me laugh and I feel like he sees _me_ ,” she was quiet for a moment as she popped a bite into her mouth, her eyes distant again as Hermione gave her a moment to collect her thoughts and decide if she wanted to continue. 

Finally Pansy nodded a little, almost as if agreeing with an internal monologue that she would, in fact, continue, and her eyes turned back on Hermione, looking resigned to be open about what it was that made her feel so connected, “Being with Harry was so fluid, like someone I was always supposed to find along the way. The time we spend together is carefree and fun, but of course there’s more than that. He very quickly dug past the walls I put up because he wanted to know me, insecurities and all, and that’s not something that’s comfortable for me to share, but with him, it was. And he loves me anyway. I feel like I can be myself and like maybe I’m allowed to love myself without the façade. Obviously my past wasn’t quite as ill-fated as Draco’s, but my family was on the same side as his; expected the same things; put me down the same ways in my younger years. And there were times at Hogwarts where I believed the same terrible things that our families had taught us to believe. It’s not always easy to accept that as a part of myself. It’s easy to look in the mirror and hate myself some days. Harry doesn’t let me do that.”

Coming from the most confident person Hermione had ever met, she was taken aback by the confession, “I’m glad he doesn’t,” she said, “You’re allowed to grow and learn from your mistakes and move forward.”

“Maybe the outlook is just a Gryffindor thing,” she quirked her lip, appraising Hermione.

“You make him very happy, too, I’m sure you know that.”

“I do,” there was more confidence in that statement, “He needs someone to remind him he’s finally allowed to just live his life without having to save the world in the process; remind him that he’s young and that there’s a lot of life to experience. That’s something I can provide. Plus, have you seen his—”

“No,” Hermione held up a hand as Pansy’s eye twinkled devilishly at her, “No thank you. I’m glad you’re both happy.”

“I was going to say his skills on a broom; quite the turn on. But you can infer whatever you’d like from the open-ended sentence, wouldn’t be wrong there either.”

“Gosh, you two,” she shook her head as Pansy grinned at her over her coffee mug.

“Shall we get back to the office?”

“Yes, just about time for my session with Blaise,” Hermione nodded, checking her watch as the two witches left some galleons on the table and started on their walk back to the lab.

They’d returned, splitting ways at the clinical trial rooms with a comment from Pansy that they should grab lunch again another day before she continued on with her normal saunter to her office. 

She’d had a good talk with Blaise on the status of the trials, noting which they were planning to have ready for the next HPA review that would be taking place in just under three weeks time. It wasn’t the five they had wanted when they’d made their plan back in November, but so much had happened between the investigation and the lab break-in that it wouldn’t have been feasible. They did have four ready, however, and that was another good push. 

She’d gone on to Theo’s office, where he shared the somber news of the monetary loss of the break-in; it had set them back again to repurchase the seeds for ingredients Draco had needed to take from the store room on short notice to rebrew his potions, along with having to purchase brand new sets of beakers and vials, as the mess had been too catastrophic for simple repairing charms. It was approximately the cost of a normal month of their operating expenses, which would have to be offset with dialing back some of their research potion brewing for about nine days. With the details laid out in several different graphs and charts, Hermione compiled her documents and thanked Theo for his time before returning to Draco’s office for their brew session.

Draco was already in his lab when she entered, sitting on his stool with a notebook in his hands. He looked up with a grin and nodded to the door, which she pulled shut behind her as his eyes returned to his notes.

“How was your lunch with Pansy?” He asked, flipping the page.

“Ah, well,” she cleared her throat a little, “I mean, it was good,” she set her bag next to her stool and started getting her own notes out, “She wanted to talk about you, actually. She’s worried about you because she thinks you’re hiding something.”

His eyes glanced up at her again, grin still prominent, “Well she’s not wrong, is she.”

“No, she’s not. I tried to give you some excuses; filling Adrien’s position and such.”

“So that’s all she wanted to talk about?” His eyes had returned once again to scanning the next page in his notes.

“Um, not really. We also talked about Harry…”

“Not unusual. She does love fawning over Potter.”

“And, well, she was trying to set me up with a friend of hers.”

His gaze shot back to hers, this time without the grin, “With whom?”

“Her friend Louis?”

Draco scoffed, “Please, he’d bore you to death.”

“I told her no, obviously,” she continued, her words quickening somewhat so she wouldn’t lose the nerve to tell him the rest, “And then she kind of guilted me into dinner with her and Harry… and Louis on Saturday night. Instead of a date.”

“That still sounds like a date,” his words were articulate, a little too articulate to be casual, “Just a _double_ date.”

“She phrased it as feeling bad that I didn’t spend much time with Harry anymore and I just, I don’t know, I _haven’t_ seen much of Harry lately and then I felt bad so I agreed to go.”

“On a double date.”

“I told her I wasn’t looking to date right now.”

“And then you agreed to go on a date.”

“It is _not_ a date, Draco. Clearly you know I’m not looking to date anyone else. It’s just dinner with friends, which happens to include her single friend.”

“Her rich, single, good looking friend from Paris. I know Louis quite well from our childhood.”

She sighed, “I was going to ask if you could find a way to get yourself invited to dinner; sit between us, keep it from getting awkward.”

“I absolutely am going to get myself invited to dinner. That doesn’t mean that I’m not just a _tad_ miffed about this.”

“I understand, I’m sorry. I should have declined, I just didn’t know how. But I’d prefer if you not get frustrated with me because you know the reason for our discretion and you agreed to the terms. I would obviously just tell Pansy if circumstances were different.”

He held her gaze for a moment more before the fire behind it died down, “I did agree and I know this isn’t the most convenient scenario. But _I_ would prefer if you didn’t agree to any more dates in the future just to keep up appearances,” he looked back down at his notebook, scribbling something in one of the margins, “I’ll get myself an invite for Saturday.”

“You’re a jealous boyfriend, aren’t you?” she asked curiously, observing him.

“Generally. Our situation is unique, but you are still mine,” a pause, “and vice versa,” he added as an afterthought, eyes still on his parchment.

She felt a quick chill pass through her body at the statement. The possessive nature was obvious and Hermione toyed a moment with her feelings on it. A part of her felt a pull to remind him she was not _anyone’s_ , however there was a secondary proclamation that he was also hers and she did like the notion that they were committed to each other in that way; exclusive and significant. He’d become quite important to her over the last almost six months since they’d reconnected and she felt strongly that there was something very real and lasting about their relationship, even this early on, so should she be so naïve as to say she was _not_ his? Because her heart was telling her quite decisively that a part of it was.

“I am yours,” she finally said in a soft tone and his eyes met hers again, analyzing her response before he nodded.

“Glad that’s settled.”

She could tell the conversation on it was over and she tried to hold back a small grin as she registered that jealous, steely-eyed Draco was a kind of a turn on now that she’d come to terms with accepting his bit of possessiveness over her. _Draco Malfoy wanted her to himself._ Another little chill; _And what would he do with her all to himself?_ No man had ever gotten to her in this way; thinking such thoughts when there was work to be done. She shook them from her head as she cleared her throat a little, “Are you ready to start the brew?”

Draco finally closed his notebook, returning it to the counter behind him, “Yes. If you could get the cauldron going, I’ve got most of the ingredients portioned out already. This brew is long enough without the additional time for cutting and juicing required.”

His tone was professional again and she could tell he was the slightest bit embarrassed that he’d just admitted that minor characteristic of his personality, but he was suave enough to play it off as a simple change in conversation. Pansy had been right, his mask was good, but he certainly had his tells once you’d broken through that mask a few times and started noticing them; Little inflections and specific practiced looks that held unrelayed emotions. Perhaps another page in Draco’s mysterious book had written itself today.

“I ordered dinner, by the way,” he noted, “It’ll be delivered via Floo at precisely seven. We’ll have an hour break at that point before stirring.”

“Sounds like a romantic, spontaneous evening ahead,” she quipped and he finally gave her a flash of his normal grin before he headed to the sink for his tools.

They busied themselves with the preparations before diving into a complicated brew, heeding the hand-written changes in Draco’s instructions and carefully performing each step as the potion intermittently became a brighter shade of gold and small sparks started jumping out as it matured and settled.

“So… are you going to test this one today?” Hermione asked as they sat down at Draco’s desk at seven with their dinner delivered from The Hungry Hippogriff.

“Yes, it’ll need to sit for another two hours after we stir it at eight and then it’ll need to be removed from heat for another two hours, but I’ll take a vial with me and take it before bed tonight.”

“Would you prefer to be alone to test this one out or would you like me to be there?”

“I actually think it’ll help to have you there so you can document any side effects I may not be aware of while I’m recovering.”

She nodded, cutting into her mince pie and mentally preparing herself for the anxiety of watching Draco essentially endure the pain of the Cruciatus curse and then go through recovery while she stood by and did nothing.

“If you’re willing to be there, of course,” he added, noticing her sudden stiffness.

“No — yes, of course I will,” she shook her head, “I was just thinking it’ll be tough to watch, but obviously we’re expecting good results and the outcome is the important part. I plan to take it myself one day, so best to see what it does. I’m just… well I’m just worried it’ll bring back memories if it hits you like the Cruciatus curse would.”

He eyed her as he chewed a bite of his food, “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he said, “If this would be a trigger for you to see before we know exactly what’s going to happen and for how long and at what intensity, I can have Blaise over another night to note results. I just think it’s important on this round to have someone observing to make sure I’m not missing anything before it goes into trials — assuming we’re at that stage.”

“It is important,” she said with determination, “I’m happy to be there,” there was a pause as they both took another bite of food, and finally Hermione sighed, “And I’m going to do my best to be logical about the whole thing, obviously, but I can’t promise you it won’t be a trigger. That curse… it still affects me. And I don’t just mean the physicality of the jolts.”

“I can have Blaise do this with me another night,” he reiterated, “You don’t always have to push yourself to be strong. You already are in so many ways and the whole world knows it. You’re allowed to acknowledge when something is difficult for you and say no.”

“Do you ever take your own advice?” She asked smartly as she washed down her pie with a swig of pumpkin juice.

His lip quirked, “Not usually.”

“Then you’ll excuse me if I don’t either,” she matched his look, “I want to be there and I will be. This is important.”

He looked like he had more fight in him but when measuring his own resolve against hers, he finally huffed, “Fine. You’re just going to do whatever you damn please anyway. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“See, we’ve all learned something tonight,” she said brightly, flicking her wand at her empty containers as they disappeared.

“ _Stubborn witch_ ,” he muttered with clear adoration before he did the same with his containers and they both returned to the lab.

In their down time, they’d been continuing to monitor the cells from the addled brain that had been given the Brain Elixir, which had seemed stable over the last month, showing an astounding amount of promise. Draco was in the process of writing up a thorough report to explain the potion, its intended effect as well as possible side effects, and appropriately document the observations they’d made in their cell testing. Once he was finished, it would be sent in a packet with said supporting observation documents to St. Mungos to begin their search for volunteers.

After their stir of the cauldron marking two hours left to brew, they’d sat down with a few different books riddled with note flags as they continued to discuss the Absorption Serum, which was finally on the docket for brewing in the coming weeks.

When they arrived back to Wenlock Cove late in the evening, they talked through expectations for the sparking gold potion that was now bottled up in Draco’s hand. Hermione prepared a small list of things she wanted to specifically observe during the process, mostly as an academic distraction to keep her thoughts from straying to more personal feelings.

When the appropriate amount of cooling time had passed, Draco sat on the edge of his bed, Hermione pulling an armchair a few feet away and taking her seat.

“It’s going to be fine,” he said in an uncharacteristically soothing voice, noting the tension in her neck as he uncorked the vial, “You know our expectations, it should be somewhere around five seconds, could be as long as fifteen if we weren’t able to make this an improvement. It won’t be any worse than that. And I can handle it.” 

“I know you can,” she said, stepping close for a quick kiss as he found her hand and squeezed it lightly, before she returned to her chair, crossing her legs and taking a deep breath.

“Cheers,” he held the bottle up, inspecting it once more before he brought it to his lips and tipped it back.

O-o-o-o-o-o-o

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the kudos and comments!! And for being patient while I gave a little TLC to my 3-shot this weekend! If you haven't, check it out - "Room Available - Diagon Alley", 13k words, rated E.
> 
> As always, find me on Tumblr @ginnyfix21
> 
> Sending lumos out to everyone as we come up to the 1-year mark of the week that it felt like the whole world changed. It's been a tough year, but writing these fics for all y'all has made it a little easier! xoxo


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